Old Habits Die Hard
by NCISisTheDogsTuxedo
Summary: Story begins one year after Ziva's exit. An exploration into her return, and what it means for everyone at NCIS.
1. Still Waters Run Deep

**First and foremost, I am not new to fanfiction. I've written nearly fifty fics under a different name. I decided that it was time for a little change of venue, if I was going to go for a change of fandom. I will be honest here. I have absolutely no idea where this story is taking me, I never do. I appreciate comments, and constructive criticism, and need you to understand that I will try my very best to be respectful to the characters, for they do not belong to me. I hope that you enjoy the ride. **

**Still Waters Run Deep**

The first Tuesday in October was a cold one in the small, rural town of Stillwater, Pennsylvania. The leaves were just starting to turn, and the weather was starting to follow stubbornly. A young woman walked quietly down the street, the purpose that was once in her step had diminished with time and experience. Her eyes move lazily along the store fronts, and she slowly came to a stop in front of the hardware store. Her eyes flitted over the brick edifice and a small smile quirked her lips. With only a moment's pause, she entered the store.

The ringing bell on the door announced her presence, and she looked around for a moment for the person she was looking for. A young man came around one of the shelves, his eyes on her with a shy smile. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Yes, I am looking for Jackson Gibbs." She pulled her gloves from her hands and looked into his eyes for a moment. She saw a slight flinch as his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but Mr. Gibbs has passed away. It's been several months, in fact."

Her mouth opened slightly, and closed, and her dark eyes darted to the door. A slight pink tinged her cheeks. "Oh." She looked back toward the young man and her brow furrowed.

The awkward silence between them was deafening, and the young man smiled awkwardly. "Are you from out of town? Did you need anything from him?" he asked quietly, unsure of how to proceed. She looked confused, and a little shaken by the news.

"I am just a family friend," she said softly. "I haven't been in touch in a while, and I was unaware of his passing," she said softly. Her eyes darted around the store and then back to the door. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you." She nodded softly and started for the door.

"I have his son's information if you wanted to contact him," he called after her.

She turned around and allowed a polite smile in his direction. "No need. I have his phone number. Thank you." She then turned sharply and left the store, the bell ringing loudly in her wake.

* * *

Special Agent Tony Dinozzo stood on the edge of the property owned by the victim of their most recent case. He stood staring at the corner of the house, while the rest of the team moved to tend to the victim inside. Slowly, his head tilted, he squinted his eyes.

"What are we looking at?" He heard Bishop's cheery voice before he saw her.

Tony turned to his teammate and lifted an eyebrow at her. He said nothing and started walking across the lawn.

"Tony? Is there something I'm missing?" she asked, keeping up with his long strides, she turned her head and squinted at the corner of the house.

Tony stopped and turned toward her, watching as she tilted her head in another direction, still squinting. "I was just messing with you, Probie." He let out a laugh, and a smile lit up his green eyes.

She turned her squint on him, quickly changing it to a glare. She was about to yell at him, but he turned away from her and readjusted his backpack on his shoulder with a laugh, and moved toward the crime scene.

* * *

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs doled out the responsibilities to his team, and stood over the body as Doctor 'Ducky' Mallard took the victim's liver temperature. "Time of death, Duck?" he said expectantly, letting the corner of his mouth lift slightly when he saw the exasperated look on his friend's face.

"You could have at least waited until the liver probe was in, Jethro." Ducky said, letting his friend's name roll off his tongue with a sarcastic tone. He noticed the smirk on Gibbs' face and shook his head, bringing his attention back to the victim.

"Boss, looks like the place was tossed." Tony stated with a flash of the camera in his boss' direction.

"Aim that flash at me one more time, Dinozzo, and I'm going to toss you."

"Sorry, Boss." He smiled sheepishly and turned around to take more pictures of the crime scene.

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked, writing notes in the small pad in his hand, he looked up at Tony.

"Uh, he's interviewing the neighbor that found the body." Tony said, looking up at Gibbs, he nodded toward the back door. He stood up and stretched his back, yawning.

"We keeping you up, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked sarcastically. The phone in his pocket buzzed, and he glared at his senior field agent as he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah, Gibbs," he sighed.

Tony's attention went to his boss, and Ellie continued to sketch the crime scene. Gibbs glared at Tony and turned his back for a moment. "Where are you?" he asked, his voice raising as if the connection was bad, or the person on the other end of the line was hard of hearing. "Well, what are you doing there? Just stay there, I'll come get you." he said into the line. "No, no you will not. Stay put." He said, snapping the phone closed. Gibbs looked up to see that he had both Tony and Ellie's attention. McGee just entered the house as Gibbs looked at his agents. "What?"

"Who was that?"

"Nevermind who that was. Find out who did this." He said, pointing to the deceased Lieutenant lying on the floor. "I've got something I've got to do." Gibbs then turned on his heel and walked out the front door.

"Well that's the first time I've seen him do that," Ellie muttered to herself.

"I've never seen it end on a good note when it happens." DiNozzo muttered, listening to the sound of the Charger's tires squealing in the street. "Besides," he mumbled. "He was our ride."


	2. Better Late Than Never

**Better Late Than Never**

The team was able to make their way back to the Navy Yard in the medical examiner's truck. Sitting in the back with the body wasn't the most ideal, but it got them back to where they needed to be. Taking the elevator to the bullpen, it was obvious they were all quietly contemplating their boss' disappearance. Tony was leaning in the corner, checking his cell phone for a call from Gibbs, when Ellie turned to glance at him. His eyes went immediately to the changing numbers on the elevator and his phone slipped into his pocket.

At the pleasant 'ding' of the elevator, the y all piled out and headed toward their desks. All eyes were on Gibbs' desk, and with the absence of their fearless leader, DiNozzo immediately took point. "Alright, McGee?"

"Running down all financials, emails, and phone records."

"Bishop?" DiNozzo turned to find his coworker sitting atop her desk, staring intently at her laptop. She hadn't looked up or acknowledged that he was speaking. "Hey," he said with a little irritation in his voice, his hand smacked the desk to make her jump.

"Oh, uh. Sorry," she said, looking between the other agents. "I was just getting Lieutenant Pierson's stats for the…"

"Less talk, more do." DiNozzo stated, backing up to push the button on the remote control just as Ellie pulled the stats up on their dead Navy Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Martin Pierson, age 26. Parents deceased. Graduated from Georgetown with a major in computer engineering. No record other than the occasional speeding ticket. His most recent deployment was NSA Naples, and there were no disciplinary actions or marks against him during his deployment. He appears to be squeaky clean."

"Squeaky clean, huh?" Tony muttered. "Well he couldn't have been too squeaky clean if he ended up on the floor of his house with a dent in his head the size of a baseball bat."

"I'm looking into friends and acquaintances. He has an aunt in Arlington."

"I'll notify next of kin. Bishop, work on the friend angle, and Mcgee." Tony turned to see the look of concentration on Tim's face and waved a hand in the air. "Keep on doing what you're doing."

* * *

The small diner was a good place for a respite, and a way to catch up with some reading while she waited for her ride. The cup of tea at her elbow had gone cold a while ago, though she occasionally sipped at it. Her eyes were trained on her book when the sound of the bell on the door lifted over the din of the typical sounds of an eating establishment. Her eyes flicked up and were immediately met with the familiar face of her former boss. His eyes scanned the diner slowly, and when they landed on her, she could have sworn that she saw a ghost of a smile. It was verified, when an affectionate smile adorned his lips.

She moved to stand up, but his hand indicated that she should sit, and he slipped into the seat across from her. "Sit. I just drove six hours in early afternoon traffic, let me at least get a cup of coffee," Gibbs said, taking the hand she had setting on the table. He gave her hand a friendly squeeze and let out a content sigh. The waitress followed his eyes and walked over to the table, pad in hand, and he ordered a black coffee. Settling into the seat, he gave her hand another squeeze. "So,"

Her eyebrow quirked curiously, and her eyes were sparkling with humor. "So?"

"It's been a while, Ziver."

"Yes, yes it has. It wasn't necessary for you to come all this way, Gibbs."

Gibbs looked around the small diner, expecting to see someone he might recognize since Stillwater always was, and seemed to continue to be a town fraught with people looking for gossip fodder. His investigative eye caught nothing out of the ordinary and fell upon his companion. The waitress stepped over and gave him a smile, setting down a mug. She poured the coffee, and he nodded in thanks, as she stepped away from the table. "What are you doing here, Ziva?"

"Here in the United States, or here in Stillwater?"

"Start at the beginning," he said, holding his finger up in pause as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

She watched in interest when he lifted the phone to his ear, letting out a grunt, followed by his name. Some things never change.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Abs." Gibbs said into the phone with his voice a bit raised, but not loud enough to attract any attention around them. "Wait, wait… Abby, slow down. Abby!" He looked up to see his companion's eyebrow quirk and a smile work its way to the corner of her mouth. He shook his head and tried to smile through his obvious eyeroll. "I will be there in the morning. I had something that I had to do." It was obvious by the side to side motion as he listened to his forensic scientist talk, that he was being chastised for something. "It was an unexpected trip, yes. Everything is fine, I have all of my limbs, and no, I am not in another country." He sighed and tapped his finger on the table, trying not to focus on Ziva's amused expression. "Abby, I really need to go. I will be in sometime tomorrow. Right, tomorrow morning, like I said. Don't let the power go to his head." Gibbs said, and flipped his phone closed, setting it on the table next to his cup.

"Some things never change."

Gibbs gave her a scrutinizing look and glanced toward the window, and then back Ziva. "Why do I have a feeling that you are here to prove that wrong?"

Ziva let out an airy laugh, one that Gibbs couldn't remember hearing but only a couple of times through her tenure at NCIS. The joy in her laughter forced an involuntary smile on his face, and a shake to his head. "What are you doing here, kid?"

"I am an American citizen, am I not?"

"As far as I can remember, yeah." His head nodded and the smile still remained.

"Then I am returning home," she replied. "I flew into New York City a week ago. I spent some time exploring on my way back to DC. I decided a bus was the most practical form of transportation, at least until I can get something more permanent. I stopped in Stillwater to see Jackson." She shrugged, but watched him closely.

Gibbs' eyes clouded for a moment and instantly cleared, his smile faltered and she watched him take a slow, deliberate breath.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Gibbs."

"Time passes, some things do change," Gibbs replied, allowing a moment of vulnerability to come and go fleetingly.

"I am still sorry." She reached out and touched his hand, happy that he allowed her to rest it on his.

Suddenly Gibbs took a deep breath and sat back in the booth, sipping from his coffee. He lifted an eyebrow at his former agent. "So what are your plans?"

She looked genuinely surprised by his question, her eyebrows lifting at him. "Plans?"

"Yeah, David. Where are you going to live? Got a job lined up? If you're going to be a part of the American dream, you have to put in your forty hours a week."

"Are you offering me a job?" she asked, letting a laugh bubble up in her throat, she seemed happy, and that made him happy.

"Nope," he said with a shake of his head. He expected to see a bit of disappointment in her eyes at his response, but he saw nothing. There was no regret dancing in her dark eyes, only joy and determination.

"Good," she smiled. "How is the team?"

"A little different, but mostly the same. You tell anyone else you were in town?"

"No." She shook her head and her eyes darted toward the window and back to Gibbs. "I am better at leaving than I am at returning, Gibbs."

"Let's hope that this time you're here for keeps." He said as he tossed money on the table for the coffee. "Let's get you home." He nodded toward her bag sitting on the booth beside her and she slid from the booth tiredly. She reached for the bag and pulled at it, only to have it pulled from her hands. Turning to look at Gibbs, she offered him a grateful smile. He nodded toward the door, and she pulled her other bag onto her shoulder, leading the way out of the diner. Once they were both on the sidewalk, he nodded toward the waiting Charger.

"Hey Gibbs, can I drive?" she asked brightly, turning to meet his eyes.

His only response to that, was a hearty laugh as he walked to the driver's side, tossed her bag into the back seat, and climbed in.

She smiled enigmatically and shook her head as she opened the passenger side door and got inside.


	3. The Road From The Earth To The Stars

**For anyone interested, my other screen name is gcatspjs. I've written Bones, Grey's, just a tiny bit of Castle. This story is finally getting a little footing in my brain box, so as long as my muse keeps herself occupied and doesn't get spooked, I will be able to continue. Please enjoy. PJ.**

* * *

****The Road From The Earth To The Stars Is Not Easy****

The first hour of the car ride was spent in an amiable silence. Neither needed to say anything and each had their own head full of thoughts to keep them content. Silence was always a close, personal friend of both of them, and the freedom from tension and loss seemed to keep them each comfortable in the company of the other.

The silence had captured them both so completely, that Ziva nearly jumped when Gibbs' voice filled the void. "It was a stroke." His voice was soft, almost as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. He cleared his throat a little, and glanced to her and then back to the road. When she said nothing, he felt it was only right to be clearer. "My dad," he said softly. "He had a stroke, that's how it happened."

He hazarded another glance in her direction, and noticed that her dark eyes were now on him. He could see the softness in her expression, and even in the early evening darkness, he could see a glisten of pain within them. She said nothing, only watched him carefully.

"It happened very quickly."

"I am sorry that I was not here," she whispered. "I would have liked to have said goodbye."

Gibbs nodded, his facial expression revealing nothing. There was a long period of silence, and he noticed that her fingers were dancing on her lap, she seemed nervous. "Do you have a plan?"

Her eyes flicked to him again, and her hand stopped moving. "No." She sucked in a slow, deep breath. "I have not thought very far ahead." She let the silence take her thoughts again, and focused on the road ahead of them. "It feels strange."

"What feels strange?"

"To be here," she said thickly. "To be here, and be free of so many burdens. It feels strange."

"I agree," he replied. "Pennsylvania is a very strange place." She let out another airy laugh, and he couldn't help but smile. Her smile quickly turned solemn though, and her eyes fell to her lap. "Ziver," he whispered, reaching for her hand. He placed his warm hand atop hers, and gave it a light squeeze. "You have spent your entire life trying to please others. You have earned this right to do things for yourself."

She smiled over at him sadly, and then down at their hands. "At first, I felt that was true. I really did. I tried to live freely, and find the things that I had always wanted, since I was young. I traveled to places that I had always wanted to go, took pictures, ate the local cuisine. I pampered myself, read and relaxed. I took care of my body, mind, and my soul. As time went by though, I began to feel empty. Don't get me wrong, Gibbs. I knew that I was not alone in the world. I know that there are those that think of me, that care for me." She paused for a moment and took a slow, deep breath to continue. "But the longer I spent away, the more I felt like I was missing out on what I really want. I felt like the heavy weight of my past has become lighter and less cumbersome, but in a way it has been replaced by the heavy weight of the future."

Gibbs squeezed her hand and returned it to the steering wheel. His silence served as his only words following her confession. After a moment, he reached his hand across the center console toward her, gently pulling her closer. He encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder as he drove. He turned his head slightly and dropped a fatherly kiss among her curls, silently assuring her that her future was not hers to face alone.

* * *

It was after eight in the evening when DiNozzo glanced over at McGee's desk as his coworker stood up. Bishop had already left for the night, and the two of them wouldn't admit it, but they were waiting for their boss to appear. "Have you heard anything from Gibbs?" he asked lightly.

"No. Abby said she called him a few hours ago and he answered."

"Did he say where he was?" Tony asked. His curiosity was piqued more than he was worried. It was very rare for them to not hear from Gibbs to at least check up on the case.

"Abby said he'd be in tomorrow morning, so he must not have gone too far. You said he was on the phone with someone and just took off?" McGee asked, grabbing his coat, he pulled it onto his arms and shrugged it onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, it was just weird. Probably an old buddy in town or something," Tony said, standing up to stretch. "No big deal." He yawned and grabbed his jacket. "Think I should give him a call and update him?"

"If he wanted an update, he would have called already." Tim shrugged, walking toward the elevator.

No sooner than he said it, the phone rang. Tony looked up and caught Tim's eyes and their eyebrows lifted. Tony picked up his phone. "DiNozzo." He smirked and nodded toward Tim. "Hey, Boss, where are you?"

"In the car. What's going on with the case? Any leads that I should know about? I trust that you haven't moved over to my desk, and started wearing my sports coats yet." Gibbs gave his gruff reply.

Tony heard a muffled female laugh on the other end, and knit his brow. "Uh, no Boss. Case is going slow, but Abby is working on the evidence we got from the house. Ellie and I are going back to the crime scene tomorrow to see if we missed anything. Still haven't found a murder weapon, but it looks like the guy found himself on the wrong end of a Louisville Slugger."

"Any interviews?"

"Girlfriend will be by in the morning. Aunt said she hadn't heard from him in months. Where did you say you were, Boss?"

"In the car, DiNozzo. Go home and get some sleep, I'll be there in the morning." Gibbs muttered, as he cut the line.

Tony looked up at Mcgee, who had stayed through the conversation. "I think Boss is with a woman."

"Like… with… with a woman?" Mcgee asked.

"No, McVoyeur, I mean I think there is a woman with Gibbs. I think that's why he left." Tony said, moving toward Mcgee and the elevator.

"You're telling me that you think Gibbs left a crime scene for a booty call?" Mcgee asked, stepping into the elevator with Tony.

Tony glanced to Tim and lifted an eyebrow. As the elevator doors closed, they both gave a visible shiver, and cringed.


	4. Nothing Comes From Nothing

**Nothing Comes From Nothing**

When Gibbs pulled the car up to the front of the house and pulled it into park, his eyes flicked to his passenger. Her eyes were closed, and she softly snored beside him, her head hanging awkwardly. He watched her for a moment in the peaceful silence and safety of the car and sighed softly, looking out at the house. After a moment, he reached over and touched her hand. Part of him expected her to jump suddenly at the contact, a typical reaction from someone who had the training of an assassin, and the reflexes of a cat. Instead, she snored on softly, even as he tugged at her hand a little more. "Ziva," he said softly, listening to her breathing change slightly, but still not awaken. "Hey, Ziva," he said again to no reaction. "Ziva, you're drooling."

Her brow furrowed and her eyes opened slightly, a grumpy frown on her face. "I do not drool."

"Tell that to the puddle on the door panel," Gibbs laughed, climbing from the car. He opened the back door to pull her bag, and watched her stretch her arms over her head and yawn. "Let's go, we're home."

Ziva opened her door and pulled herself from the car, another yawn on her lips. She looked at the house before her, and allowed a bit of a smile onto her lips. "Home," she whispered.

"At least for now," Gibbs said walking past her toward the sidewalk. "Let's go, it's late and one of us has to get up for work in the morning." He started toward the front door, and he heard her footfalls behind him, quick and steady. He swung open the door and stepped inside, placing her bag to the side of the door, he walked toward the kitchen. "You know where the guest room is, make yourself comfortable."

"Gibbs?" Ziva said, closing the door behind her, she reached down for her bag.

"Yeah?" he said over his shoulder, pausing for a moment.

"Thank you. Thank you for not being angry at me for leaving again."

He turned to face her, and shook his head with a half smirk. "We all need a break once in a while, Ziva. We've all had to deal with what life throws us in our own way. I can't be angry with you for that. As long as you keep on this path, you have nothing to worry about from me."

"What about everyone else? I'm not sure that they will all be as forgiving as you."

"Take it one day at a time, kid. There's no rush." Gibbs then turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving Ziva alone with her thoughts.

* * *

In the morning, Gibbs woke when the front door closed, and a light blue streak moved past the couch on the way to the stairs. He heard a light 'thwap' of something landing on the coffee table, and tried to adjust his eyes to the early morning darkness. It took him a moment to remember that there was someone else in the house, and when he did, he rolled onto his back with a grumble.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up." Ziva said with a bright smile from the third step, she could see Gibbs looking over at her, his eyes groggy with sleep.

"It's fine, I have to get up anyway."

"Just got in from my morning run. Coffee is made in the kitchen, I am going to just run up for a shower, and I will be ready for the day." She turned and headed up the stairs.

"Hey!" He called after her. "Hey, hang on a second…" She turned and took the stairs slowly down, looking over to Gibbs curiously. "What do you mean you'll be ready for the day?"

A mask of confusion covered her features, and her head tilted slightly. "I wasn't planning on just sticking around here, drinking bourbon and building a boat, Gibbs." A familiar smile edged its way onto her face. "Not that there would be anything wrong with that, of course." She now stood at the bottom of the steps, watching him for a moment.

Gibbs said nothing as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and yawned slightly. He leaned down and picked up the newspaper that she had dropped on the table and walked toward the stairs. He moved past her and smacked the newspaper into her hands. "You will be sticking around here, but no bourbon or boats until you find a place to live, a car to drive, and a job to pay for them." He stepped up to the third step, and watched her turn slowly to face him, her eyes wide. "And I get the shower first; I have to get to the office." He then turned on his heel and climbed the stairs without waiting for a response, letting out a chuckle when he heard the loud sigh from downstairs.

* * *

Gibbs stepped off the elevator and walked toward the bullpen, with his head up, his eyes sharp. As he approached his desk, he watched as three sets of eyes lifted and focused on him. Setting his coffee down on his desk, he simply waited for the run-down of the case to begin. He turned toward the plasma screen, and all three agents stood up and crowded around him.

"Boss?" Tony said, garnering himself an icy glare from Gibbs. His eyebrows lifted and he turned his attention back to the plasma screen.

"What do we got?"

"What we have," Tony began. "Navy Lieutenant Martin Pierson. Bludgeoned to death by an unknown assailant. Ducky reported blunt force trauma to the back of the skull as cause, and time of death was around 3am the morning we found the body. Twenty six years old, on leave from deployment at NSA Naples. No known enemies or disciplinary actions, and no problems with law enforcement. Girlfriend Laura Holmes should be here at 09:00. Spoke with his Aunt, but she claims she hasn't talked to Martin in quite a few months, and that he was never in any trouble." DiNozzo continued his explanation drolly, with Bishop and Mcgee chiming in with their relevant information.

"Any leads?" Gibbs asked, turning toward Tony, he noticed that his agent seemed a little distracted. Tony dropped his arms at his boss' glare and stopped gesturing behind Gibbs' back as soon as the glare turned toward him. Gibbs then turned to Mcgee, who promptly turned toward the screen as Bishop answered Gibbs' question.

"We haven't found much just yet, but he did make several pretty large purchases over the past couple of weeks, and nearly all of it is accounted for, with exception of an equipment bag, and some sporting goods."

"Phone records?" Gibbs asked, glancing to Mcgee, who ran down the last few calls that were made on the victim's phone. When Gibbs turned his head, he noticed that Tony was unusually close to him, and his eyes narrowed. "What's your problem, DiNozzo?"

"Are you using a new soap?"

"DiNozzo, are you sniffing me?" Gibbs snapped.

"No, Boss. Of course not, Boss." DiNozzo said, hurrying over toward his desk. Gibbs watched his Senior Field Agent's eyes glance back to the other team members before sitting down. "Just going to get a jump on some of the stats for the…victim's…um…" Suddenly, Gibbs' phone rang. "Saved by the bell…" DiNozzo mumbled.

Gibbs lifted the phone to his ear and mumbled a greeting, sending Tony a glare. "I'll be right down, Abs. I didn't forget you." He flipped the phone closed and headed directly toward the elevator. "Keep digging!"


	5. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Out of Sight, Out of Mind**

The moment the elevator door opened and Gibbs stepped into the lab, Abby's attention and focus was on him. From her exuberant exclamation of his name, to her excited grab for the caffeinated beverage in his hands, her eyes were boring into his. She held the large cup with both hands and took a long pull from the straw, closing her eyes as she let the drink calm her frayed nerves.

Gibbs waited for a moment and let out a soft chuckle. "What do ya got, Abs?"

"Why don't we start with what you've got, Gibbs?" she exclaimed with a raise of her eyebrows. There was no movement on her part, and Gibbs could see that she was going to be stubborn. Instead of rising to the bait, it was just best to feign ignorance.

"I have a forensic scientist on the payroll that is stalling," he tossed in a narrowed glare that she volleyed back with a glare of her own. "Abby?"

She shook her head and tottered over toward her computer with a sideways glance. Setting down her Caf-Pow, she let her fingers dance over the keyboard. "I just find it weird that you took off in the middle of a crime scene yesterday, nobody heard hide nor hair of you, and you just materialize out of nowhere with nothing to show for it."

"I answered when you called," he said, watching the screen over her shoulder.

"You did."

"I didn't end up in another country, blown up, shot at, missing any organs or body parts."

"Very true," she hazarded a quick once over glance and then pulled her attention back to the computer.

"So there's nothing to worry about."

She glared at the screen. "Nothing to worry about," she ground out under her breath.

"Abs, the case."

She took a deep breath and flashed some items up on the screen. "Lieutenant Pierson was struck in the head with what appears to be a wooden stick, but most likely a baseball bat. You'll notice that this… this area of the trauma area were consistent with the wide barrel of a bat, while this and this indicate that the assailant also hit the Lieutenant with portions of the handle, and we even found an impression of the knob of the bat slammed into the victim's ear. Whoever did this was really, really ticked off."

"We didn't find any bats at the scene."

"This would be a good quality bat, splinters were found embedded in his skin, it was an ash bat. Most cheaper quality bats are made with maple, but ash is a lighter weight, and most professional baseball players would use ash."

"Thanks, Abs." Gibbs said, dropping a kiss on her cheek, he headed toward the door.

"So you're not going to tell me where you were yesterday?" She asked in an all-out pout.

"Helping out a friend, Abby," he replied, slipping out toward the elevator quickly.

Abby watched after him with another glare. "I will find out what you are up to, Leroy Jethro Gibbs!" She called into the air. "I will find out what he is up to." she muttered, turning back toward her computer.

* * *

Gibbs stepped back into the bullpen nearly ten minutes later, his stride unbroken by his glance up at the plasma screen. He looked over at Tony and noticed his wide eyed expression. "DiNozzo!" he barked.

"I will have to talk to you later, Aunt Gertie. If I learn anything new about the magic act, I will let you know."

"Tell Abby that a magician never reveals his tricks, and get over here."

"Gotta go, Gertie." Tony said, hanging up the phone quickly, he stood up and walked around the desk to stand beside his boss. "What's up, Boss?"

"I need you and Bishop to go back to the crime scene and see if you can find any sign of the murder weapon. Abby says it's a good quality wooden baseball bat, and if it doesn't belong to the victim, then we need to figure out who would have had it in their possession and where they took it. Mcgee will do the girlfriend's interview."

"On it, boss." Tony said, nodding toward Bishop. He grabbed his bag and jacket, and walked toward the elevators. Bishop stood up, and followed after Tony with her bag. They made their way to the elevator doors, and he jabbed at the button insistently.

"Hey, you seem kind of nervous or jumpy or something." Bishop said, catching Tony's eyes as he glanced in her direction. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Tony replied. He had no reason for the itchy feeling in his skin, but something just didn't seem to be sitting right for him. "Maybe that breakfast burrito isn't sitting right with me."

Bishop nodded and an eyebrow went up, sighing at their now awkward silence.

"Seriously, I'm fine. I just… It's nothing," he sighed, "God, these elevators take forev-"

His sentence was cut off by the elevator doors opening, and the set of brown eyes that captured his attention, and his breath. Ziva's eyes locked with his, and she watched as he fought to breathe. She found that she was also unable to speak, her own breath caught by the emotions that seemed to be flashing across the face of her former partner. She wanted to reach out to him, but it was clear that just her presence was overloading his senses. She watched his fist clenched tightly, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, neither saying anything.

"Tony?" Ellie said, poking him as she stepped into the elevator and stood beside Ziva, not knowing the reason he was acting so oddly. "Tony, are you alright?"

"It's okay," he stammered. "I'm fine, I'll just take the stairs." He said sharply, turned on his heel, and made a beeline for the nearest stairwell, disappearing behind the door.


	6. The Cause of Fear, is Ignorance

**The Cause of Fear, is Ignorance**

Ziva's morning had been spent doing normal, domestic things. She had made breakfast for herself and read through the newspaper, trying to quell the weight of anxiety that seemed to make it harder to breathe lately. It was when she started to clean Gibbs' house that she decided it was time to get out for a while. Ziva was familiar with the public transit system in DC, so she had no problem taking a bus or subway around the city. She had no idea what had brought her to the Navy Yard, but once she arrived at the front gate, she knew there was no turning back.

Arriving at security, she was happy to see the younger guards that were unfamiliar with her history with the agency. There was no sense in announcing her presence too loudly, a little anonymity felt good right now. Her eyes scanned the faces of the people in the building as she pinned the visitor badge to her jacket, but as per usual the workers in the building were more concerned with their 'matters of national security', than the young brunette with the visitor pass.

The elevator ride began with a strange calm, and she focused on her eventual arrival at the bullpen with a breadth of trepidation. Suddenly she felt the overwhelming urge to run, and had to reach out and slam her hand into the emergency stop switch. She felt the car jerk to a stop and closed her eyes, resting her back on the wall of the elevator. She took several deep, cleansing breaths and tried to run though the thousands of things that she could say to her former coworkers, and to one in particular. When her slight panic attack subsided, she reached out and hit the emergency switch to set the elevator back in motion, taking slow, meaningful breaths. However, her pseudo calm was immediately shot when the door opened and she found herself face to face with her former partner.

As soon as the doors opened, she heard his voice, and the moment his green eyes locked onto hers, she felt her throat constrict, and his face pale. She could see that he was surprised into not responding, and his mouth seemed to open and close similar to a fish out of water. She wanted to reach out to him, but it was clear that he was processing the moment. She watched his body language, and the way his eyes seemed to attempt to read hers, but didn't seem to quite have the language down. His eyes narrowed, and his fist clenched and unclenched at his side.

The small blonde standing next to him called his name, poking at his arm while h remained still. Suddenly, the spell snapped, and he turned, hightailing it to the stairs, leaving the bewildered blonde woman in his wake. She turned to the still open door of the elevator as Ziva stepped off and watched after the closing stairwell door. "You'll have to excuse him," Bishop muttered. "I think he's off his medication." She stepped into the elevator, and Ziva let out a nervous laugh, sending a smile onto Bishop's face as the elevator doors closed, leaving Ziva to venture into the bullpen alone.

Tim heard Tony's voice loudly exclaim something about the stairs, and he looked up to see his partner take off toward the stairs. His attention then moved to the woman who was stepping off the elevator to allow Ellie inside. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked like she had possibly gained a little weight that only seemed to accentuate her natural curves, but it was the laugh that sealed the deal. "Ziva?" he muttered, standing up to see the familiar smile coming in his direction. He glanced to Gibbs, and noticed that his boss continued to sit at his desk, completely unaffected by the return of their long, lost partner. "Ziva, is that you?" He grinned.

"McGee!" Ziva exclaimed, walking around the corner as Tim moved around his desk to grab her in a tight hug.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked with a little bite to his words, but the smile betrayed his elation. He hugged her tightly and she rested her cheek in his shoulder, feeling her friend's strength. She could feel a bit of a lump forming in her throat.

"What does it look like she's doing here?" Gibbs said, standing up. "She's home."

"For good?" McGee asked, pulling from the hug to look Ziva in the eyes. When she nodded, unable to speak, he pulled her in for an even tighter hug.

"Nice entrance, by the way." Gibbs said, nodding toward the elevator. "Haven't seen DiNozzo run that fast since the Sanderson case."

Ziva let out a teary laugh as Mcgee released her from the hug. She glanced toward the elevator and took a deep breath. Her relief at Mcgee's reaction made her feel a little calmer, but she still had butterflies running rampant in her stomach, and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. "I didn't mean to make him run."

"It's alright, he had somewhere to be anyhow," Gibbs assured. The elevator announced the arrival of another person, and Gibbs nodded toward it. "McGee," he said, letting him know that the victim's girlfriend had arrived for her interview.

"On it, Boss," McGee nodded, smiling again at Ziva. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "We'll catch up."

"Yes." Ziva smiled, and she watched him step away toward the woman entering the bullpen, he led her around toward the conference rooms.

Gibbs stepped up beside her, and followed her gaze. "There is a lot to catch up on, Ziver."

"I know," she whispered. "I just hope they all still have a place for me." She turned her head toward her old desk, noting the papers and folders all over the desk, and floor surrounding the workspace.

"For most of us, you never really left." Gibbs watched her eyes flicker to Tony's desk. "Hey, let's go get a coffee, and then come back here and you can surprise Abby."

"Is that really a good idea?"

"Who are you kidding?" Gibbs said, nudging her with his elbow. "Abby loves surprises."

* * *

When Bishop arrived at the car, Tony was already sitting in it. That wasn't what surprised her, however. What surprised her, was that he was sitting in the passenger seat. Tony always drove. Even when it was just the two of them, she was surprised that he didn't have her sit in the back seat. She climbed into the driver's side and pulled the seat up. His gaze moved to her and his brow furrowed.

"You're really short," he laughed with no tone of apology.

She glared at him and looked for the key, glancing to Tony, she saw it dangling from his finger and reached for it, only for him to pull it out of her reach. "Tony, cut it out."

"I'm just making sure you're ready, Probie."

"What is wrong with you?" she asked, reaching for the key again, she snatched it from his hand and swatted his hand away. "You're acting like you saw a ghost."

"It was nothing, just drive," he muttered.

"No, Tony. If I have to trust you as my partner, you need to trust me to tell me what's wrong." Bishop insisted.

"What is wrong has nothing to do with the job, Bishop. Just drive," he snapped, nodding toward the steering wheel.

Bishop glared at him and started the car, backing out of the parking space without another word. As she started to move through the lot, she noticed Tony's attention go back to the doors of the building, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"It was that woman in the elevator, wasn't it?" she asked suddenly.

"One more word, and I'm driving."


	7. If You Wish To Be Loved, Love

_A/N: Hey folks. I want to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I'm working very hard to get the voices of our characters down. It has always been something that I've always thought was important. I'd like to be honest with my thoughts on a few things before we continue. Yes, I am a Tony/Ziva fan. I think the writers were able to make these two characters as charismatic and as interesting as the actors that play them. As for Bishop? She is a honorable 'place holder', and a good character, and worthy of respect... because my number one fanfiction rule is: Always remember whose story you're messing with. These characters aren't mine, they belong to the creators and showrunners. I am only borrowing them. That being said... You'll know where the story is going when I do... so I hope you enjoy. Lots of love, PJ._

* * *

**If You Wish To Be Loved, Love**

Gibbs walked through the Navy Yard toward the coffee cart, his companion silently stepped alongside him, watching their feet as they walked. Her silence seemed telling to him, and her eyes lifted as they stepped up to the cart. She pulled her coat around her just a little tighter, reaching into her pocket for money. He ordered their beverages, and promptly waved off the dollar bills she offered to pay with, and handed her the cup. They continued their walk in peace, despite the biting cold.

"If I remember correctly, it does not often snow this early in October," she commented. "But this year it just might be an exception."

"Nah, it's still couple weeks away," he muttered in return.

"I'm not sure, Gibbs. There is just a certain chill, a scent in the air when snow is coming. Maybe it's from so many years in the desert. I'm betting by the end of the week." She sat down on a bench, huddling up to keep warm, and Gibbs sat beside her.

"You come by to debate with me about the weather, David?" he asked her, a smile playing at his lips.

"No," she admitted softly. "I didn't mean to interrupt your case."

"We're always working on a case, you know that. You're always welcome to visit," he assured. "Get any leads on your own little investigation?"

"I might have," she whispered. "An old colleague has mentioned that there may be an opening that I would be perfect for."

Gibbs was silent, noting that she seemed to be much more thoughtful than she had been that morning. Her eyes focused on the lid of the coffee, her fingers danced over the side of the cup.

"An old colleague?"

"Yes," she lifted her eyes to his for a moment, and noted the deep focus that he had trained on her. It took her a moment to focus on his tone of voice. Through her years working with Gibbs, she had been able to determine exactly his motivation, simply by the cadence of his voice, or the sparkle in his limitless gaze. Her dark eyes flicked up to meet his, and she quickly looked away. "Not that kind of colleague, Gibbs." She laughed nervously. "It's a position for a linguist."

"Ah," he said, nodding his head knowingly. He could see that there was more, and she was holding back. "Linguist."

"For the FBI."

This fact sent Gibbs' eyebrows toward his hairline, and he let out a loud huff of a laugh. "The FBI?"

She laughed nervously and nodded her head. "Yes."

"Tobias." Gibbs shook his head, laughing to himself. "That your colleague?" he said the word with a bit of a sarcastic edge, but it was clear that he found the word associated with Fornell to be humorous.

"Yes."

"Did he call you, or did you call him?"

Her brow creased in confusion. "I called him when I first arrived stateside to inquire about positions available that were out of the field, and possibly domestic. He recommended that I apply for language specialist, since they are always in need of translators, and transcriptions. I want to do something positive with my life. I want to make a difference, and I needed to stop…" her sentence had begun strong, but she trailed off for a moment, and he could tell that there was something more behind her words. She sipped from the coffee cup, and looked out on the Navy Yard.

"You needed to stop what, Ziva?"

Ziva suddenly stood and Gibbs could see an almost imperceptible shiver. "I think I would like to go see Abby now."

Gibbs shook his head at her avoidance, and stood up slowly. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and nodded his head. "Well then, let's go see Abby."

* * *

When Bishop and Tony arrived at the crime scene, they grabbed their bags from the car, and without saying a word, approached the house. Bishop watched Tony carefully while he checked the house to make sure that the evidence seal hadn't been broken since they had last been on the scene. They entered the house and began another cursory examination of the surroundings.

"So we're looking for a wooden baseball bat?" Ellie asked, glancing to Tony as he pulled his latex gloves over his hands.

"That's what the rumor is," he said, without providing any further commentary.

Bishop scrunched her face up at her partner, and snapped her own gloves on. "I'm going to go check the closet in the bedroom."

"I'll be in the study," he said with a nod toward the room in the back of the house.

They worked in in their own spaces, looking around the home in every closet and under every piece of furniture. After about an hour, Tony was pulling up the cushion on the couch for the second time when Bishop came into the room. "I don't think the girlfriend lived here."

"Yeah?" Tony asked, throwing the cushion back down. "What makes you say that?"

"Checked the bathroom." Bishop nodded. "No toothbrush, no leg razor, no feminine hygiene products." Off Tony's cringe, she glared. "What? Do you prefer the word tampon, or is 'douche' more your style?"

Tony glared and turned around, looking toward the door and then back toward the back bedroom. "Look in the bedroom again."

"Are you serious? We've been through this house six times!" Bishop complained. "Just because you're avoiding going back to the office, doesn't mean…"

"Hey!" Tony said with an irritated grunt. "Who's the Senior Field agent here?"

Bishop paused for a moment and glared at him. "This is so stupid!"

"That's what I thought." Tony nodded, and watched her stomp angrily toward the bedroom again.

Tony turned with a triumphant smile, and looked out the front window, noticing a car slowing down in front of the house. When he opened the door, the car jerked forward and took off down the road quickly. "Bishop!" Tony shouted, waiting for the agent to enter the room. The same scowl was on her face as when she left, and her arms crossed over her chest. "Ah, you can quit the defiant little sister routine. Put a BOLO out on a dark green Nissan Acura, tinted windows."

"And what are you basing that on?"

"Sudden interest in our crime scene."

* * *

Gibbs and Ziva stepped off the elevator and he held out a hand to her to wait, making a 'hush' motion with his hand. From the sound of the loud, raucous music pounding through the lab, it was clear that Abby was working on something. He stepped into the room and noticed his forensic scientist deeply involved in some kind of chemical analysis. "Whatdya got, Abs?" he asked, watching as she turned around quickly, her ponytails whipping at her face.

"Oh my God, Gibbs! You know how I hate that!"

"I thought you liked when I came down here to see you," he teased.

"Well, yeah! But I don't have anything for you yet." She turned the music down and set the remote on her table. "I didn't send out the Gibbs signal yet. Is your Abby-dar down for repairs?" She smiled when his face twisted in confusion.

He shook his head and smiled. "Nah. Just have someone here that wanted to see you." He turned and waved Ziva in. Ziva walked into the room, with a shy smile, and from the wide eyed expression on Abby's face and her sharp intake of breath, it was obvious that she was speechless...until she was not.

"Ziva!" she squeaked out, a bright grin replacing her open mouthed expression. "Oh my God, Ziva!"

Quickly, Gibbs grabbed the coffee cup from Ziva's hand. It only took four strides for Abby to make it to her, but by the impact of the hug, both of them needed to take a decent three or four steps back to keep from falling over. And just as quickly as her voice left her, it returned with a vengeance. "Look at you! You look good. She looks good, doesn't she Gibbs? Doesn't our girl look good?" she asked, without waiting for an answer. "Where have you been? I got your postcards, hadn't heard anything for the past few months though. We thought maybe you got back into the spy business and had gone on some deep undercover mission or something. We were starting to get a little worried when you stopped writing, but we figured you were just moving on and everything. It was nice though to get a little something now and then to at least know you were alive."

Abby continued to talk, and hug Ziva at different intervals. "How long have you been in town?"

"Gibbs picked me up last night." She replied, being purposefully vague.

Abby's jaw dropped again, and walked to her boss, crossing her arms in front of her, she narrowed her eyes at him. "That's where you went yesterday."

"Yeah." His reply had all of the sarcasm of a 'duh', but with an affectionate smile. "I had to, the fool was going to take the bus."

"Ziva!" Abby exclaimed, with little or no malice. It was just as if she had missed chastising her friend. "I am so glad you are here," she said with another hug.

"I am happy to be here." She paused, watching Abby tilt her head. "For good."

Those two words sent a brilliant smile onto Abby's face, and her eyes were shining brightly with tears of happiness. "It is so great to have you home."

Ziva could feel the tears prickling her eyes again as she hugged back. "It's good to be home, Abby. It really is."


	8. Shadow Passes, Light Remains

**Shadow Passes, Light Remains**

When Gibbs entered the bullpen, his eyes were on McGee sitting at his desk typing. "How did the interview with the girlfriend go?"

"Ex-girlfriend," McGee corrected. "Apparently they broke up a week ago when she started dating her fitness instructor."

"Does this fitness instructor have a name? Any history with the victim?"

"Got a name, looking into a history, Boss. We didn't really have anything on the girlfriend, so I let her go home." He continued typing. "Did Ziva leave?"

"I left her downstairs with Abby. Where are DiNozzo and Bishop?" He looked up at McGee, just as the elevator doors announced the arrival of the two agents in question.

Bishop walked around the corner first, and DiNozzo trailed behind, his eyes shifting around the office, he slipped his bag off his shoulder and set it behind his desk. He sat down in his chair and unlocked his top drawer. He slid it open and looked inside at the contents, and then slammed the drawer closed and locked it. Suddenly he looked up and over his shoulder, then under his desk with a suspicious look on his face. McGee looked on in amusement.

"She's downstairs with Abby." Gibbs said, standing up to move toward the plasma screen.

"Who is downstairs with Abby?" Bishop asked, glancing to Tony. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at his glare and moved on to the screen.

"Ziva." McGee replied, looking to Bishop.

"Yes, McGee?" Ziva asked, striding toward the bullpen from the elevator, her coat over her arm. All four agents turned toward her.

"Hey, Ziva." Tim said politely, he smiled and gave her a casual wave.

"Tim," Gibbs snapped, trying to get him to focus, and McGee gave Ziva an apologetic smile as he and Bishop toward the screen. Tony, however watched Ziva hover near the edge of his desk. A smile that could have been described as shy curved onto her lips, and he couldn't help but feel his heartbeat quicken. "DiNozzo!"

"Right, Boss!" His head snapped in the direction of the screen. He straightened his posture and attempted to avoid looking back toward his desk.

McGee was already in the middle of his sentence, so he repeated it for Tony's benefit. "I interviewed Alicia Meyers, she and Pierson broke up a week ago."

"Amicable?" Tony asked.

"No. A lot of shoe throwing and name calling, but nothing more than that. She apparently left the Lieutenant for her fitness trainer."

"Male or female trainer?" Tony asked with a leering smile, and was immediately answered with a solid smack to the back of his head. "Thank you, Boss."

"Male." McGee said, sending a wary look to his partner. "The name is Brad Walker. Twenty eight year old fitness trainer with Bear Lake Fitness in Georgetown. Still working on getting more information on him."

"See if we can find out what kind of car he drives. We put a BOLO out on a green Nissan Acura. Tony saw the car slowing up at the scene then take off, thought maybe it had something to do with the case." Bishop contributed.

"I'll look into that." McGee nodded.

"Find anything else at the scene?"

"We grabbed a few things, thought maybe we could determine if anyone else had been in the house. It was obvious that the girlfriend wasn't living there, but no baseball bat." Tony said, glancing to his side. He noticed Ziva sitting in his chair and she was sliding open one of the drawers on his desk. "Hey, hey… get out of there." He turned and walked quickly around the desk to close the drawer. She looked up at him and smiled. "That one is locked."

"I know that one is locked," he said with an air of agitation. "I was the one that locked it. To keep people out of my drawers," he stammered. She turned the chair slowly, and her knees brushed against him only slightly.

With a concealed smile, she stood, finding herself just a breath away from touching him. "I'm sorry, Tony," her smile seductive, and her eyes were burning into his. As she moved around him, she leaned into his ear, whispering so that only he could hear. "I thought you liked when I went through your drawers." She then took a step away from him and around to the other side of his desk.

Tony's ears and face burned red at the power play, and it was hard for Ziva to tell if he was turned on, or livid. He held onto that stubborn expression until Ziva took another step back with an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes remained locked with Tony's.

Gibbs watched with annoyance at the distraction, and noticed that all eyes were on Tony and Ziva. "Hey!" Their heads all snapped to him. "Bishop, bring the evidence down to Abby. McGee, get the car information on the fitness trainer," he said as he walked around his desk. "And you two…" he waved his hand at Tony and Ziva. "You two get whatever this is over with already, we have work to do." With an angry grunt, Gibbs sat down in his chair and began pecking at the keyboard.

Bishop hovered for a moment, but quickly grabbed the evidence bags she had on her desk and excused herself toward the elevator. She tossed the team one more fleeting look as she entered the elevator, noting the intense staring contest that was occurring between Tony and Ziva.

Tony straightened his back, his eyes staring intensely into Ziva's, his eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. His earlier embarrassment had dissolved and his green eyes were bright. "Ziva, would you like to take a walk with me?"

Her eyes narrowed just slightly, and she watched his gaze match hers. "I do need to run some errands, but a walk would be nice." She lifted her coat from her arm. She watched Tony out of the corner of her eye as he grabbed his coat and put it on. He straightened out a few things on his desk and moved around toward her. She began to pull her own coat on when she felt his hand on her sleeve, assisting in pulling the coat onto her shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Let's go." He nodded, sending a glance to McGee, who was trying to avoid eye contact, and back to Gibbs, who was now refusing to relinquish eye contact.

"Ten minutes, DiNozzo."

"Got it, Boss."

With a quick turn, and a graceful hand at the small of her back, he ushered Ziva quickly toward the elevator.

* * *

The elevator was filled with an awkward silence which neither knew exactly how to overcome. Tony pushed the button that would lead them to the main lobby of the building, and when the elevator car jumped to life, Ziva could feel herself react. Her eyes flicked in his direction, but his focus was straight ahead. When the doors opened, his hand was on her back again, and he led her from the elevator and through the lobby.

The cold air pushed into them as soon as they stepped outside. They walked together toward the riverwalk, and Tony could see her gait stiffen at the sound of his voice. "Looks like we're going to be getting some early snow this year. I can feel it."

Her answer was silence, and a quick glance to his face. His eyes were focused into the gray sky, bright and wide. "You like the snow, don't you?"

"Yes." Her answer was simple and quiet, almost bashful. "I have always liked DC in the snow."

They were nearly to the Riverwalk, when suddenly, Tony stopped. His hand reached out and he grabbed her wrist, expecting her to pull away. Instead, she turned around, and faced him. His hand dropped from her wrist. "Ziva, why are you here?"

Her first instinct was to snap a sarcastic comment back at him, to make light of the heavy feeling that was weighing down her heart. Her first instinct was to react like the old Tony would have reacted, and smile away the pain. Instead, she simply told him the truth. "I am finding myself, Tony."

"I don't understand."

"I am trying to find myself, Tony. That is the reason you left me in Israel, no?" Her question fell on his confused face, and his head tilted slightly, almost as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "Tony?"

"I am trying to understand what you're saying, Ziva. I just don't."

"I am here, Tony. My journey has led me here. I am right here." She was insistent and confused that he didn't seem to understand.

"Yeah, I know. I get it." He shook his head, because clearly he didn't get it. "You're here. But what does that mean?" He sighed and shook his head.

"Why did you run off when you first saw me?" her head tilted with the question, and her brow furrowed.

Tony sighed loudly. "Ziva, we don't have enough time for this right now. I have to get back to the case." He paused, noticing the hurt in her eyes and immediately felt a rush of guilt. "We will talk, Okay?"

"I know," she nodded. "We don't have to do this now." Off his look of impatience, she reached out and touched his hand. "I apologize for interrupting your day, for disrupting you."

"Don't worry about it, really." he shook his head. "Listen, we do have a lot to talk about. I'm not dismissing you, I'm not running, and I am not pushing you away, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, with a nod.

He gave her a sad smile, and reached out to touch her cheek. "You know how Gibbs is when we're in the middle of a case. We'll talk soon. Are you staying with him?"

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, feeling her throat closing up with emotion. She nodded.

"Good, then I'll know where to find you." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over where he had just kissed her, and offered her a soft smile. "Don't disappear on me, okay?"

"I promise I will not."

"Good," he whispered. "I'll see you soon." He then took a step back from her, running his hand down her arm, and he grasped her hand and smiled just a little brighter. "We'll talk." He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Yes."

"Good." he nodded, squeezed her hand and turned, making his way back to the building, back to the case, and away from her once again.


	9. Beginning Is One Half Of The Deed

**Beginning Is One Half of The Deed**

Bishop entered the lab to the sounds of Abby's stereo blasting, and looked around for the forensic scientist. "Abby?" she called, looking around. "Abby?"

Suddenly, the dark haired girl popped out from behind one of her many tables, switched the music off and grinned brightly. "Hey, Bishop."

"We grabbed some more evidence from the crime scene. Some glasses on the counter, and a couple of things that looked kind of out of place. We thought maybe you could check for fingerprints or something." Bishop looked around at the decorations in the lab, and noted that it seemed that Abby tended to decorate for Halloween all year round.

"Well, fingerprints or something is my specialty." Abby grinned, looking at the items in the plastic bags. She signed the chain of evidence form, and glanced to Bishop, who was eyeing her for a moment. "You okay, Bishop?" Abby asked with an amused expression. A smile was never far from the forensic scientist's face, and right now Bishop looked lost.

"Who is Ziva?" she asked, giving Abby an introspective glance. Her forehead creased slightly, and her bottom lip slipped into her mouth as she watched Abby's smile brighten.

"Oh! Did you meet her? Ziva is the agent you replaced."

"Right!" Bishop nodded. "I knew the name sounded familiar, I just couldn't place it."

"Yeah. It was so great to see her, I'm so glad she's home." Abby turned and pulled gloves on, preparing to look over the evidence that was brought to her.

"Oh, we were going over case stuff when she came upstairs, and I didn't really get a chance to meet her. Are she and Tony in a thing or something?" Bishop asked innocently, unsure really of how to ask about what had happened upstairs.

"Ziva and Tony?" Abby glanced over, her pigtails whipping. "They've always been in a thing. On the record, off the record. It's a complicated, twisty, winding, scary amalgam of feelings and non-feelings. I'm not actually sure if there's really a word for the thing, but it's definitely a thing."

Bishop nodded, but her face still showed signs of confusion. She thought for a moment, tapping her finger on the table in front of her and looked back to Abby. "Was there any reason for him to seem spooked when she showed up?"

"It's complicated," Abby explained. "She left, and was keeping in contact a little at first, but went off the grid for a bit. It's been almost six months. Tony hates being surprised by her just showing up. It makes him nervous when she appears out of thin air."

"This has happened before?"

"Like I said," Abby said pointedly. "It's complicated."

"Gotcha." Bishop nodded in understanding. "Well, I'll leave you to your fingerprints or something," Bishop said, offering a kind smile. She and Abby traded a friendly goodbye, and Bishop made her way back to the bullpen.

* * *

Tony stepped into the bullpen and walked toward his desk. He sat down heavily on his chair and let out a resounding sigh. "You talk to her?" Gibbs asked his Senior Field agent.

"Yeah Boss, but just for a second." Tony said, typing something into his computer, hand on the receiver of his phone.

"You gonna talk to her again soon?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Tony looked up at Gibbs, expecting something more to the conversation. Gibbs' attention was on the paperwork in front of him, and it was as if the small conversation had never happened.

"Boss?" McGee piped up, looking across at Gibbs. "The car that Tony saw at the scene matches the car registered to Brad Walker."

"Why are you still sitting there, McGee? Take Tony and go find him." Gibbs said, nodding toward the other agent.

"On it, Boss." McGee said. He glanced to Tony, and both of them gathered their gear and made their way quickly toward the elevator.

* * *

The late afternoon was quickly turning to evening by the time Ziva arrived back at Gibbs' house. She stepped through the front door and looked around the old home, squinting at the unnatural darkness that seemed to fill every corner. She turned and flicked at the switch on the wall, looking up to the light in the entryway, she glared when it remained dark. To be sure, she flicked the light switch off then on again. She moved her bags through the house, trying the next light switch on the wall, she found that one to be of no use either. The only light in the house came from a desk lamp at the dining room table.

"Gibbs," she sighed. Setting her bags at the bottom of the stairs, she flicked the switch next to the basement, and opened the door. Carefully, she made her way into the confines of Gibbs' sanctuary. She descended the creaky stairs, running her hand along the solid wood railing that looked to have been replaced recently. Her steps were meaningful, and her eyes shifted along the wooden shelves and shadows that bathed each corner into darkness. The one light hanging from the ceiling cast ominous shadows throughout the room.

The floor was clear of debris, and in the middle of the room sat Gibbs' most recent project. Ziva smiled at the familiar smell of sawdust that invaded her senses, and she felt a warm sense of comfort in the familiar scene. It had been a very long time since she had entered these confines, and her memories of this particular place were powerful, but not particularly positive.

Moving deliberately across the floor, she stepped around several pieces of wood that had been placed against the wall, and her eyes flicked to a shelf where she found a box of light bulbs. Carefully, she leaned over the bench to the shelf, pulling down two boxes of light bulbs, and then walked back toward the stairs. As she ascended the steps, her eyes flicked over the spot on the floor across the room. The pain she once felt for the loss of her brother, was now replaced with a sense of peace. Ari was no longer hurting others, he was no longer hurting himself, and pain could no longer be inflicted on him. He was gone, but would never be forgotten. With a deep breath, she turned back to the steps, and moved quickly toward the upstairs landing, and walked through the door without looking back.

Once she arrived at the top of the stairs, she put the groceries from her bags away. Once that was done, she set about replacing all of the light bulbs that she could find, bathing the house in a welcoming brightness that it appeared hadn't been present in a while. It felt good to be moving around and keeping her mind and hands busy, and brightening the house made her mood lift a little as well. Just as she put the step stool away in a back closet, the front door opened.

"Ziver?" Gibbs voice broke through the silence, followed by an unceremonious slamming of the door, and the sound of his heavy feet on the floor.

"In the hall," she called, stepping through the house to meet him at the couch.

He sat down heavily on the cushions. "What're you up to?"

"Trying to make your home look less like an abandoned building," she said quietly. At his knowing smirk and eyeroll, her eyes moved to the clock on the wall. She noticed it was nearly six in the evening. "Light is important, Gibbs. It allows us to see what we try to hide, but need to face."

"You mean like dirty dishes, and old newspapers?" he asked, nodding toward the pile of newspapers on the table beside the couch.

"For starters, yes," she said, reaching for the pile. He leaned over and put his hand on hers to stop her.

"You don't have to clean up my mess, Ziva."

She stopped and pulled her hand back slowly, looking into his eyes. He looked more tired, older than just a year before. She wasn't sure if it was just this case, or just the weight of every day that gave her that impression. At first she thought he was speaking of the newspapers, but the longer he held her gaze, the more she felt that he was speaking of something else entirely. "Gibbs," she whispered.

"I have to get back in a little bit, I just wanted to come by and check on you. Are you okay?"

The corner of her lips turned up wards just slightly, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in a small but real smile. "I am fine, Gibbs." At the slight narrowing of his eyes, she laughed. "I am doing well. I promise. How is the case?"

"It's going well," he said carefully. He could tell by her expression that this information was all she was looking for, so he didn't say anything further. Her eyes seemed clouded with a question she wasn't ready to ask, but turned her attention toward the kitchen to avoid his gaze.

As if a switch was pulled, she began to talk nervously, her voice skittering across the room with breakneck speed. "Would you like me to make something for you to eat? I went to the grocery store on my way back and got a couple of things. I could throw something together if you'd like. You could bring something back to the team if they're hungry." She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm.

"Ziva, I don't need anything from you. It's okay." Ziva turned and looked into his eyes, an indecisive expression on her face. She was trying desperately to maintain her composure, but was finding it difficult with his eyes boring into hers. "It's okay, Ziva. You're safe. I promise."

She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open as she released it, but it was still evident by the wetness of her eyes that she had a lot more going on in her mind than she was letting on. "I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it yet."

"I'm ready whenever you are." Gibbs said honestly.

She swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Gibbs."

"Anytime, kid," he said with a comforting smile. They spent another moment weighing the situation carefully, when Gibbs pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and found strength in his fatherly embrace. After a moment, he pulled from the hug and looked into her eyes, before moving his attention back to the kitchen.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" he said, and moved to the refrigerator to see for himself.


	10. Nature is Beyond All Teaching

**Nature is Beyond All Teaching**

Gibbs walked into the bullpen a little after 8pm to find McGee and Tony working on their reports. Bishop had clearly left earlier in the evening, though the evidence of her 'process' was strewn over the floor between the desks of the other team members. "You guys have anything more?"

"Not yet, Boss. The guy lawyered up as soon as we had him in the room. We are holding him on a drug charge for illegal steroids we found in his apartment. We found about six baseball bats in his possession, but they were all aluminum." Tony replied, pecking at his keyboard with his fingers. "Where did you go off to?"

"Ran home, got a bite to eat," he replied. He looked up at Tony's gaze, and the younger agent looked down at his keyboard quickly. Gibbs shook his head, glancing to McGee. "Anything with the car?"

"Abby will be getting it in the morning. Cursory search didn't show anything, but if there is any evidence…" McGee began.

"Abby will find it." Gibbs said confidently, finishing McGee's sentence.

Tony yawned and stretched, putting his hands behind his head. He leaned back in his chair and his eyes grazed the clock on the wall, as if he wasn't already aware of the late hour. "Well, I think I'm going to get going, grab something to eat. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow." He stood up and stretched again, grabbing his coat from behind his chair. McGee looked up and gave him a nod, and Gibbs glanced over when Tony grabbed his bag.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said, gaining Tony's attention. "I'm going to be here for another hour or so. There are leftovers in the refrigerator." Tony's eyebrow lifted and his expression was a mix of denial and sheepishness. "Go easy on her."

"Got it, Boss." Tony nodded, and turned toward the exit.

* * *

Tony drove down Gibbs' street and approached the house with his fingers nervously tapping on the steering wheel. His anxiety was heightened, and for a split second, he considered just driving past, simply to work up his nerve to go inside. However, as he drove nearer to his boss' house, he was surprised to find the porch light was shining brightly. From the street he could see a soft glow of lights that made the often dark home inviting and lived in.

A soft smile lifted the corner of his mouth, and he parked in front of the house. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest, and his empty stomach was roiling with butterflies. He walked up the porch steps and listened to the wood protesting beneath his feet, stopping at the door. He poised his hand to knock, and stopped himself, trying to quell the nest of anxiety that seemed to be heightening with each and every second. Dropping his hand, he tried to pep talk himself into knocking, and for a moment even considered just walking right inside. Shaking his head, he thought better of that plan. Even if she had given up her Mossad ways, she was still dangerous. He chuckled at the thought of her popping his head off his neck with two thumbs and just the right angle. Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath, lifting his hand again. Suddenly, the door opened.

When he opened his eyes, Ziva stood before him with an expression somewhere between surprise and amusement. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, and she wore sweats that seemed to swallow her small frame, yet give off an air of coziness. "Hey," she said, a tremor of laughter in her tone. "Are you going to knock, or just stand there like that?"

"Uh," Tony stammered for a second, suddenly feeling wholly out of place. "Gibbs said you had leftovers." He gave himself a mental head slap, and a sheepish grin lit up his features.

Her eyebrow quirked and her lower lip slipped into her mouth as she bit back a laugh. "That's why you're just standing here? Leftovers?"

"One of the reasons, yes." He swallowed hard and tried to slip into charming mode, but the shift of his eyes exposed the panic within them. "Can I come in? It's cold out here."

Ziva took a step back and let him inside, closing the door behind him. She turned and found him stopped, watching her curiously. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's been a long day." He nodded and took a slow deep breath, realizing that he had no idea how to begin a conversation with her. Tony's eyes narrowed and he nodded awkwardly, and for once in his life he struggled with exactly what to say. He pulled his jacket from his shoulders and tossed it on the arm of a chair. He turned and watched her eyes, taking a step toward her.

His stare was unnerving, and she seemed to shrink from his gaze, taking a step back. "Let me heat up those leftovers." She turned and walked toward the kitchen quickly. Her nervousness was evident in her voice, but even more so in the way she continued to talk while preparing the leftovers. "I made lemon pepper salmon, with vegetables as a side dish. Gibbs seemed to really like it, said that it was the best he'd had in a long time." Her voice was unsure, and her back was to him as she gathered the items from the refrigerator, and a plate. She could feel his presence as he entered the kitchen, but kept her hands busy with her task.

"Ziva," Tony spoke, his voice was low, and he watched her start slightly at the sound, her eyes flickering in his direction. However, Ziva simply continued to talk, focusing on the plate.

"I've taken various cooking classes, but I would have to say that salmon is one of the more common fish dishes, in that you can cook it in just about any way with a lot of different spices, and…" her voice trailed off when she felt his hand on her arm. She turned her head slowly, focusing on his hand for a moment. She didn't flinch or pull away, just watched his strong hand as it grasped her arm tenderly.

"Ziva?" he whispered.

Suddenly, her voice was gone, her lips moving slightly, but still she was silent. She lifted her gaze to Tony's bright eyed expression. There was a tension in his jaw, and his fingers encircled her arm a bit more, as he tugged at her lightly. Ziva went willingly, turning her body toward him, she encircled his waist with her arms and pressed herself into him so hard that she could hear his breath leave his lungs in a puff. His arms held her tightly, until he could hear the distinct sound of a sob in his shoulder. "Hey," he whispered. "Hey, come on now. No crying. I love salmon, I swear," he whispered the joke, pressing his nose into her hair. He kissed the top of her head and felt her body tremble in his arms. For a moment he wasn't sure if it was another sob or laughter. He dropped another kiss on her head, and found himself rocking her slightly. "Hey, it's okay."

Tony felt her grip on him begin to lessen and her sobs slowed to just a hiccup or two, but he continued just holding her. Ziva's face burrowed into his shoulder, and she wiped her hot tears against his dress shirt in an attempt to find her equilibrium. She took advantage of the moment and breathed him in, disguising her motivation as a soft sniffle.

Carefully, Tony stepped back, taking her cheeks in his hands. He looked into her eyes and lifted the corners of his mouth. His thumbs softly rubbed the tears that remained, and gently he leaned down and kissed the trails of wetness. "Go in the other room and sit down, okay? I'll finish in here and be right out."

"Tony," she whispered.

"No excuses. Go on." He nodded toward the other room, and she gave him a weak smile. "Go on, I'm hungry."

She laughed a teary laugh and nodded her head, trying to control her breathing. "I missed you," she whispered, taking a step backward. Without waiting for a response, she slowly walked from the kitchen, letting her words hang languidly in the air.

* * *

_**A/N- I assure you that I am finally finding the stride of this fic. Next chapter will have some explanation as to Ziva's current state of mind. We will be finding out some truths about her 'off grid' time in the upcoming chapters. **_

_** Comments are encouraged and welcome.**_


	11. Go Even Against The Flow

_A/N - Thank you all so much for the favorites and sweet comments! It's keeping my muse going strong! :)_

**Go Even Against The Flow**

Tony busied himself in the kitchen with preparing the food, his eyes occasionally glancing to the doorway to see if she had ventured back into the room. He tried not to focus on thoughts of Ziva's breakdown, of what it might mean. He tried not to make assumptions or judgments on her, instead focusing on the delicious smell of the food he had heated. With the plate balancing on his hand, and two beers in his other hand, he walked back into the sitting room to find her.

Ziva sit perched on one end of the couch, book in hand, and her eyes flicked up to meet his with a meek expression. "It smells good," he said with a hint of wariness, sitting on the other end of the couch.

She said nothing, and took the offered drink with a grateful smile, twisting the cap from the bottle, she flipped it in her hand and sat back. The book was placed on the table next to the couch, and she pulled her knees up to her chest and faced him. She could feel the edges of the cap pushing into her skin sharply, and couldn't help but clench her fist just a little harder. She watched Tony take a bite, his eyes flicking to her with a smile, and he savored the taste with a grateful moan. "Taste good?" she whispered.

Tony nodded emphatically, watching her take a long pull from her beer, her eyes focused solely on him. She placed the bottle on the coffee table and wrapped her arm around her knees. The bottle cap remained in her hand, pushing lightly against her sensitive skin making a mark against her palm. Her fingertips pressed it tighter to the rhythm of her measured breaths. "So, have you slept with your new partner, yet?" she asked, her voice light and airy as if she were asking him the weather.

Tony's reaction however, was less than graceful as he aspirated a piece of salmon at her question. He almost dropped the plate on the floor as he leaned forward, coughing violently. The fork clanked against the dish, and it landed precariously on the coffee table as Tony tried to breathe again. He coughed loudly and leaned forward on the couch, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ziva reached forward and gave him a friendly pat on his back, moving to sit beside him. Tony's eyes remained closed as he swallowed what he was able to clear from his lungs, and looked up to the ceiling. "Jesus, Ziva! Are you trying to kill me?" he rasped, taking a quick drink from his beer bottle.

"No," she answered honestly, gently running her hand over his back. "I'm sorry," she whispered gently. "Are you alright?"

"I will be as soon as I get my dinner out of my lung," he rasped with a sharp tone of agitation. "Why would you ask me that?"

"She was attractive, I just thought..."

"She's also married, and a little young, and frankly, I'm not exactly convinced she's got a full deck up here," he said, swinging a finger around his head.

"She's married," Ziva said, nodding her head as if telling herself not to be concerned.

"Yes," he nodded, clearing his throat. "I'm not seeing anyone right now." He coughed again and gave her a withering look. "Even if she wasn't married, Ziva. Why would you assume that I was sleeping with her?"

"I don't know," she said, pushing back into the corner of the couch, she waited for him to look toward her before she shrugged. "When you saw me," she trailed off.

"That was," he started, pausing after a moment. "That was a moment I am not particularly proud of. I panicked. Fight or flight response, nothing else." He reached for the plate again, sitting back on the couch, he moved to the other end and faced her. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, and you had to walk into mine." He quoted clearly, his eyes dancing with amusement, but his expression was serious. "You were the last person that I expected to be stepping off the elevator, Ziva. I was surprised, that's all."

"Okay." Ziva nodded her head and watched him for a moment, and after a warning glance, he began to eat again. "What is she like?"

Tony looked up and lifted an eyebrow, carefully swallowing his bite of salmon. "Who? Bishop?" She nodded her head slightly, and he shrugged as he poked at the food on his plate. "She's fine. Sometimes a little green, definitely a probie. She's kind of cat like." He shrugged, trying to figure out if that was a good way of describing her.

Ziva let out a laugh. "Cat like?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You're kind of cat like too, but in more of a svelte, sneaky, feral cat kind of way. She's more like a pampered tabby that jumps up on the counter, eats too much, and insists on attention constantly… and when she doesn't want attention, it's like you don't even exist. It's definitely different, and she's definitely not you." The comment came out very breezy and casual, as if he had actually put thought into the description.

Ziva's eyebrows lifted and she nodded. "So I have been missed?"

Tony glanced at her and his eyes sparkled with mischievousness at her question. He moved to put the plate down on the table, and tugged at her foot. "You were gone?" he teased, looking around. "You mean you weren't living here in Gibbs' basement this whole time?" She moved so that she was sitting down next to him, and gave him a sharp poke in the rib with her elbow. His smile was bright and happy, and it only widened when she laughed, wrapping an arm around her, dropping a kiss on her temple. He watched as her eyes sparkled for a moment, then they dropped to her hands in her lap. He could sense that she was retreating from something when her smile disappeared. He kissed her temple again and gave her another friendly squeeze. "Yeah, you were definitely missed."

Tony was about to ask her what was wrong, when she abruptly stood and grabbed for the plate on the table, and dropped the bottle cap beside her bottle. It was clear that she was trying to keep busy. "Hey, where are you going with that? I wasn't done."

She looked down at the nearly empty plate, and then back to Tony. "You left all of the carrots," she said of the vegetable medley on the side of the plate.

"I was saving the best for last," he replied, reaching for the plate. She moved to hand the plate back to him, and he grasped the plate, and her wrist. He put the plate on the table, and pulled her into his lap in one quick move, feeling her body tense as she landed against him.

"Tony!" she exclaimed, feeling his arms encircle her tightly. "What are you doing?" She tried to sound stern in her admonishment, but couldn't help the laugh that erupted at the sudden change of venue.

"Trying to get you to talk to me," he said, burying his face in her neck. She wiggled against him and tried to pull away. He expected her to get angry with him, to fight back against his wandering lips against her skin, but instead she only pushed herself further into him. "Talk to me, Ziva."

Ziva sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, pulling her legs up onto the couch so that he was practically cradling her. Her gentle sigh against his shirt was listless and loaded with avoidance. "I do not know where to start."

"The beginning is a good place," his voice rumbled in his chest, and she looked up into his eyes. She expected to find amusement there, happiness. She expected to see the soft crinkles of laughter at the edges of his eyes, but all she saw was exhaustion.

"Tony," she whispered, pressing one hand against his cheek, and the other on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath her touch, and a flash of pain in his eyes. She rested her forehead against his, and watched him close his eyes and breathe in slow, measured breaths.

"Don't say my name like that," he whispered. "Please."

Her response was a tender kiss to his nose, and his cheek. "Tony," she whispered, trying to gain his attention. When he refused to open his eyes, she continued. She kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, the small wrinkles beside his eyes. "Tony," she said again, her voice deeper, huskier. She kissed the other side of his mouth, his other cheek. As she went to whisper his name again, his finger moved to touch her lips. She smiled against his finger and she watched the corner of his mouth turn up slightly. His finger then moved from her lips, to his. She smiled softly at his still closed eyes, and that devilish smile beneath his finger. "Tony," she whispered again, leaning forward to kiss his finger, she was not surprised when his finger moved, and she found her lips on his.

The kiss was soft and sweet, a tender testament to her return and the promises that it conjured. She tilted her head slightly and deepened their touch for just a moment before pulling away. His eyes were open now, spilling the secrets of the past year at her mercy. She could see the wet sheen of tears that he refused to acknowledge. "Welcome home," he whispered huskily.

Her lips turned in an enigmatic smile, a rogue tear trailing down her cheek. "It is good to be home."


	12. Fortune Favors The Brave

**Fortune Favors The Brave**

When Gibbs finally made it to his front door that evening, he paused for a moment at the loud eruption of laughter on the other side. He listened to Tony's voice as he regaled a story in a way that was so very over the top, it was hard to tell if he was drunk, or just happy. Gibbs turned the doorknob slowly, entering the house without either of them noticing, and watched while Tony recounted a story about him and McGee. Pacing before the couch, his arms flailing as he told the story, his voice became quiet for a moment, a brilliant smile on his face.

"So there he is, sitting at his desk, mouth shoved full of pepperoni! I've been dying of hunger, close to blacking out three or four times during the day, and he's been cheating the entire time!" Tony exclaims, laughing through the last part.

"No!" Ziva exclaimed, her laughter bubbling free, doubling over in a fit of giggles. Her cheeks were flushed with happiness, her eyes dancing over her former partner's face as she looked up at him.

"I'm serious! We've gone to hell without you," he said, sitting heavily onto the couch beside her, placing his hand lightly on her back. His eyes flicked to the new person in the room, and immediately, Tony stood up quickly, as if he had been doing something wrong. "Hey, boss. Anything new with the case?"

"At ease, DiNozzo," Gibbs said with a shake of his head. Tony glanced to Ziva and she had a mischievous glint in her eye, and a particularly humored smile. "I hope you plan on bussing your plate."

Tony looked down at the plate from his dinner, sitting unattended on the coffee table. "Uh, yeah. Of course, boss. I was just catching Ziva up on some things with the team. You know, McGee, Abby, Ducky… what they've been up to."

"I'm familiar with the team, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, watching his agent disappear into the kitchen. Gibbs glanced to Ziva and could see by the smile on her face that she was more comfortable than she had been the day before. "He behaving himself?"

"As well as he can, I suppose," Ziva replied just as Tony came back into the room.

"You washed that plate too, right?" Gibbs asked without looking.

"Of course I did," Tony replied, turning back toward the kitchen.

Gibbs let out a chuckle and walked toward the couch, sitting heavily on the opposite end from Ziva. She then noticed the large orange envelope he had in his hands. He tossed it on the couch between them, and her eyebrow lifted curiously.

"Paperwork from Tobias. Application for the job, study materials for the tests." Gibbs nodded.

"Thank you, Gibbs." She smiled over at him and pulled the envelope closer, flipping it open to look at the materials inside.

"Need to get you going on the right track if you're going to be sticking around," he said as he stood up with a grunt. "Hey, DiNozzo."

"Yeah, Boss?" Tony stuck his head from the kitchen area.

"Go home. You have to be in the office in the morning, and I don't want any excuses."

Tony was quiet for a moment, and glanced between Ziva and Gibbs. His brow furrowed and he nodded. "Sure thing, Boss." He walked back into the kitchen, and Ziva glanced to Gibbs. With an imperceptible nod from Gibbs, Ziva put the envelope on the table and went into the kitchen after Tony.

* * *

When she stepped into the kitchen, Tony was standing at the sink, water running. His hands were in the sink, a rag scrubbing at a pan with great vigor, his brow scrunched in concentration. "Hey," Ziva said, stepping up to him, he visibly jumped.

"Hey," he grunted in response. "Just cleaning the dishes," he muttered.

"Yeah, you're going to scrub off the non-stick part," she said, reaching for the water to turn it off. Tony continued to scrub. "Tony," she said, touching his hand. "Hey, it is clean."

Tony set the pan in the sink, and turned around, watching Ziva lean her hip on the counter. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great," he said with a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "What's not to be okay about? You're home, you have no responsibilities or worries. I mean, you were off the grid there for a while, so that was a little worrisome, but hey. Here you are now," he said with a humorless laugh. He dried his hands off with the dish towel and leaned his hip on the counter as well. He looked into her eyes and flashed a fake smile. "What?"

"You are worried that I will leave again."

Tony shook his head, his eyes not meeting hers. He turned and started to pace. "What? No. You just got here, why would you leave again? It's not like you have a history of disappearing or anything." He shrugged and continued to pace. "That would be ridiculous for me to think that you'd show up for a few days, get bored and then decide there are better places to be."

"Tony, stop." Ziva stepped toward him and took his arm, waiting for him to turn and face her. "Tony, please. Look at me."

He turned and looked toward her, focusing on something just to the left of her, instead of her eyes. He was having a hard time figuring out the sudden onslaught of emotions that were twisting his insides tightly. He closed his eyes at the pleading expression on her face, and took a slow, deep breath. "I'm sorry." His apology was whispered so softly, she hardly even heard it leave his lips. Ziva could see that he was attempting to calm himself, and gently removed her hand from his arm. "I want to trust you, Ziva." He opened his eyes to look into hers, and she could see the emotions that were being held back. "I really want to trust you, but I am finding it very difficult."

Ziva tilted her head at his words, and where he expected to see pain, he instead saw acceptance. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth, and then popped out when she offered him a small smile. "I understand." She took a step back and dropped eye contact, running a stray finger along the edge of the counter. "Tony, you said earlier that you running when you saw me was your fight or flight response?"

"Yes," he replied, stepping toward her to regain the distance that she had put between them.

"I'm through running." She lifted her eyes to focus directly into his, her gaze unwavering. "I'm ready to fight. I'm ready to fight for you."

A soft smile rose onto Tony's lips, and he tilted his head in curiosity. "Why, Ziva?"

"I have spent my entire life trying to please others, Tony. I have fought to be the strongest, to be the fiercest. I have spent my entire life focusing on living in the image of others, fighting the battles of my country, of my religion. I am done with that now. I am choosing my own battles. I have chosen to fight for my own happiness, and I think that you can make me happy." She stepped up to him and placed her hand on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

"You think that I can make you happy?"

Her lips turned up slightly, and her eyes flicked down to her hand. "I think that you have potential."

"Potential," he chuckled.

There was a pause, and her face became very serious. Her eyes focused on the buttons of his shirt. "I am not healed completely yet, Tony. I am not exactly who I wish to be, but I am exactly where I want to be when I do find that peace. I am finding who I am beneath the warrior. Returning home is not easy for me, please do not think that I believe that my re-entrance into your life is a free ride to happiness."

"Ticket," he muttered.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him, she saw the lopsided grin and narrowed her eyes.

"Free ticket, Ziva."

"I pour my heart out to you, and all you can do is correct my English?"

"What? I'm trying to help you be a better person!" he laughed, grunting when her hand smacked his chest hard, and she turned away. He reached for her hand, and grasped it. She turned and faced him again, her sharp glare was only a mask, and he smiled through it. "Listen," he said, watching that eyebrow of hers arch menacingly. "I get what you're saying, okay?"

She dragged out the pause for an impossibly long moment, nodding her understanding.

Tony kept her hand in his, tugging her closer. "I should probably go."

"Yes, perhaps you should." she smiled. "But I will see you soon, yes?"

"Lunch tomorrow?" He lifted his eyebrows hopefully, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

There was a long pause, and she buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, and then looked up into his eyes. She dropped a kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry, but I already have plans for lunch tomorrow."

"What?" his voice rose, but more out of disbelief than anything else.

"I am sorry, but someone else has already asked me to lunch tomorrow, Tony. Perhaps another time." She shrugged.

"Who? Who asked you to lunch? Who even knows you're in town?" he asked, stepping back.

"McGee," she smiled, watching his jaw drop as she stepped toward the door.

"What? You'd rather have lunch with McInterloper than with me?" He sounded offended, but his smile gave him away.

"You are not the only person that I need to make things right with, Tony. Drive home carefully." She said sincerely, flashing him a sly smile, she turned quickly from the room to escape any further questions.


	13. Deeds, Not Words

**Deeds, Not Words**

It was a little after eleven in the afternoon when the 'ding' from the elevator announced the arrival of its passenger into the Autopsy floor. Ziva took a moment before stepping off the elevator to calm her nerves, quietly convincing herself that she had nothing to worry about. She took a step out of the elevator just as the doors began to close again, and paused once again.

"It's only Ducky," she whispered to herself, but unbeknownst to her, she wasn't the only one who heard.

"What's only Ducky, my dear?" The sound of Dr. Mallard's voice interrupted her thoughts when the doors to Autopsy opened. The smile on the older man's face was enough to send a bright grin onto her face and erased the nervous feeling in her stomach. "Ziva," he smiled. "I heard that you were in town."

With a quick behind him to see if he was in the middle of anything, she embraced the doctor tightly. "Home, Ducky. I'm home," she corrected politely, taking a step back.

"Home! Yes, of course!" Ducky smiled, taking in Ziva's appearance with an appraising glance. "And what brings you to my neck of the proverbial woods, my dear?"

Ziva smiled, "Just a social call. I didn't get a chance to see you yesterday. I'm on my way to see McGee for lunch."

"Ah, yes. I do believe there was quite a bit of bickering between Timothy and Anthony this morning. Are you to say that you were the cause of it?"

"I'm sure that I wasn't the only reason." She said with a smirk. "How have you been feeling? I hope that all is well."

"All is well, certainly. Nothing too terribly exciting going on down here," Ducky smiled. "But you, my dear. You look well rested, and dare I say, happy?"

Ziva felt a warm blush color her cheeks, and she took the older man's hands. "I am happier than I can ever remember being, Ducky. I am slowly getting to where I want to be."

"Well then, it only helps to be around those that love you, and care about you." Ducky smiled. "Jethro mentioned that you were staying with him?"

"Gibbs has been very generous with his accommodations, but has also been quite vigilant in trying to get me to find my own place. Two days in a row, he has slapped the newspaper into my hands after my morning jog. Subtlty is not one of Gibbs' strengths." She shared a laugh with Ducky, and quickly became serious. "I will say, Ducky. I am very lucky to have people who care about me. I had forgotten how important that was, and I wanted to offer you each an apology for leaving so abruptly, for not saying goodbye."

"Nonsense. There is a time and a place for goodbye. You were simply doing what was best for yourself, and this little break my dear girl, was a break well deserved." He squeezed her hands for a moment, and smiled. "I hate to hug and run, but I have an appointment that I need to keep."

"I will take the elevator with you," she smiled, and pushed the elevator button, and they waited for the doors to open.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Ziva." Ducky said thoughtfully as the elevator doors opened, and he ushered Ziva inside.

"It was my pleasure, Ducky. Family is important."

Ducky stepped in beside her and smiled as she pushed the button for the correct floor. "That it is, my dear. That it is."

* * *

Ziva stepped off the elevator and entered the bullpen slowly. She tugged at the bag on her shoulder and glanced around at the movement around the room. She moved toward the familiar aisle of desks, finding that McGee, Tony, and Gibbs were nowhere in sight. She furrowed her brow and set her bag heavily on Tony's desk.

"They'll be out of interrogation in a few," a voice piped up from somewhere in the vicinity of her old desk. Ziva looked around the corner, to find a petite blonde sitting on the floor behind the chair. She popped out her earbuds and smiled. "You must be Ziva." Bishop pulled herself up and held a hand out to her predecessor. "Ellie Bishop."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ellie." Ziva was still unsure of this little sprite of a woman, but shook her hand politely. She looked to be no more than twenty five years old, perky and bubbly. She certainly didn't seem like the type of person who would fit in with her former gang of misfit NCIS agents. "I trust that Tony and McGee are keeping you on your feet?" She pulled her coat off, and tossed it on her bag.

Bishop's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "On my toes? Oh yeah, you know, there is the typical hazing. I grew up with four brothers, so they're a piece of cake." She shrugged.

Ziva nodded and moved around Tony's desk, settling in his chair. "There are many tricks to surviving a case with these three gentlemen." Ziva said, leaning back in the chair. Ellie watched her for a moment as if she wanted to ask her something, but simply watched her for a moment. Ziva tugged at the top drawer of Tony's desk and scowled when she realized it was still locked. "For example, they never do something without having a reason for it."

"He always keeps that drawer locked," Ellie said, gaining Ziva's attention. "As long as I've been here at least."

Ziva looked back down at the drawer and poked her finger at the lock, looking around Tony's desk for something to pick it with. "I'm sure you're familiar with Gibbs' rules, correct?"

"Uh, yeah." Bishop nodded, and sat on the top of her desk, watching Ziva examine the lock, and then search the other drawers for something.

"Well, Tony also has his own set of rules, and I'm sure McGee has his own set of rules." She pulled a paperclip out of one of the drawers, and smiled devilishly. "And working with Gibbs for so long, I have also given thought to my own set of rules." She concentrated on bending the paperclip, glancing at the lock. "My rule number one? No secrets." She leaned forward and concentrated on the lock, poking the paperclip into it, she moved it around and attempted to unlock it. She was so concentrated on picking the lock, she failed to notice that Tony and McGee were walking down the hallway from interrogation. She turned the lock and smiled in triumph as she heard the resounding click of the lock sliding out of place. She was just opening the drawer, when a hand moved and closed it in front of her. Gasping with surprise, she looked up at Tony.

"Ninja has lost her touch." Tony teased, holding the drawer closed.

"What is in the drawer?" she asked.

"Office supplies." He kept the drawer closed as she tugged slightly.

"Hi, McGee." Ziva said sweetly to Tim, and then turned a deadly glare on Tony. "Let me look,"

"Curiosity killed the cat," Tony teased, moving around the desk, he bumped her with his hip, and pulled his keys out to lock the drawer again.

Ziva smiled slyly and stood, still holding the paperclip in her hand, she leaned into him and held her stare. "I have changed my ways, Tony. I haven't killed a man in a very, very long time." Her voice was sultry and low, and her smile was deceptively sweet.

"You don't want me to be the one to break that streak, do you?" His voice was steady and low, their faces inches apart.

"Gibbs would frown upon blood on the carpet."

"It's not the blood, Ziver. It's the whining that I don't want to deal with. If you're going to kill him, make it fast." Gibbs snapped on his way to his desk. "McGee, get her out of here before she disembowels him. Tony, go check out that gym that the boyfriend frequents." He was about to sit down, when his phone rang. Flipping the phone open, he greeted the other person gruffly. "I'll be right down, Abs." He glanced around as everyone watched him for a moment. "Bishop with me." Gibbs barked, and headed for the elevator.

Ellie paused before running to the elevator, her eyes flickering to Tony and Ziva where they continued their standoff. "Were they always like this?"

"Every. Single. Day." McGee muttered, looking up at the two of them. "Alright, Ziva. Let's go."

She kept her eyes on Tony as she walked around him, brushing against him purposely. "I will find out what you are hiding, Tony," she whispered with challenge in her eyes.

"I dare you," he glared playfully.

"I'll be back," she replied, pulling on her coat, and grabbing her bag.

"I look forward to it, Terminator."


	14. You Get What You Give

**You Get What You Give**

The car ride to the bistro had a slight air of awkwardness that seemed to permeate the air. Ziva glanced to McGee and noted that his hands clutched the steering wheel tightly; his eyes were on the road as he drove. She could tell he was nervous, based on how his adam's apple bobbed occasionally, and his eyes would shift toward the side window and not toward his passenger.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, McGee?" Ziva was finally able to gain a second of eye contact that quickly was moved back to the traffic.

"Uh, no, I'm fine. You know, just annoyed with the traffic," he stammered.

She could tell by the way his voice had sounded almost like a question, that he wasn't sure that his lie would pass muster. He glanced to her again, and offered a wan smile. She smiled back at him, but could feel the uncertainty in her friend begin to eat away at her self-confidence. Closing her eyes, she took a slow, deep breath. "So you received my letters, yes?"

"Uh, yeah," McGee nodded. "It was a shame we couldn't write back, you know? But it was nice to know how you were doing. It was good to know that you were safe." He gave her another smile, this time a little more genuine. He turned his attention back to the road, and after a moment, his expression turned more thoughtful again.

Ziva watched him for several moments, feeling the awkwardness creeping into the silence again. She was tempted to reach forward and switch on the radio, or start a game of twenty questions, or just start humming to herself. The silence was grating on her nerves. She began to tap her leg with her fingers, an obvious sign of unrest, her breathing regulated and even. "McGee, I am sorry," she suddenly blurted out. His attention flashed to her, and then back to the road. "I'm sorry for not saying goodbye."

"Hey, it's fine, Ziva. I mean, you came back, right?" McGee brushed it off easily, but there was something behind his words that he seemed to be biting back. "This time," he muttered.

Ziva's eyebrows shot up, and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, forget I said anything." McGee tried to brush it off, mentally kicking himself for being outspoken.

"Are you angry with me, McGee?" She watched him shake his head, but could see the hesitation, the way he didn't look at her even when he parked the car. "You can tell me, you know. It's alright to be angry."

"I'm not angry," he said, though his tone held a bite of bitterness. "Let's get lunch, okay? I'm welcoming you back. Let's just forget it, okay?" He started to get out of the car, and she grabbed hold of his coat, forcing him to stay seated, he turned his head slowly to her. "Ziva, just drop it."

"You were happy to see me yesterday," she said softly, trying to keep his eyes focused on her, instead of wandering to avoid eye contact. "Tim?" she whispered, using his first name as an emotional weapon.

"It's complicated, Ziva. I'm glad you're here, I am. I missed you, we all missed you. I hope that you intend on staying, but I really don't think I can watch Tony go through what he went through again. It was dangerous for him, it was dangerous for the team, and he's my friend, Ziva. You damn near wrecked him."

"He took it badly." She sighed in resignation. There was no question in her words, only acceptance and a thread of guilt.

"Yeah, he took it badly." McGee sighed heavily. "I don't know what happened between you and Tony, and I don't need to know. I just think that you need to know that he fell hard for you. You could see it in his eyes when he called on his search for you. You could hear it in his voice, the way he talked back to Gibbs, threatening to leave you behind, you could see that he was just trying to get Gibbs to tell him to keep looking. Gibbs won't admit it either, but I think that you broke his heart a little too."

"And yours?" She turned to face him, letting her dark eyes stare into his with a burning fire. "Did I break your heart too?"

McGee stared into her eyes for a long moment, trying to read her expression but coming up with nothing. He simply nodded his head, jutting his jaw out angrily. "Yeah, Ziva. You kind of broke mine too. We were worried about you, okay? Even after Tony returned without you, we knew you were still in danger. Postcards and letters mean little when you can't trust those you're sending them to with your forwarding address. Then you went off the grid, nobody knew where you were. We weren't sure if we were going to find out you had died somewhere, or were killed. It was scary. Nobody talked about it, nobody even theorized, but you could tell that it was eating away at everyone. So yeah, Ziva. I guess I am little angry at you, okay?" Tim's voice had risen, his cheeks blushing a soft crimson, his eyes bright and clear.

Ziva nodded her head, her eyes flickering to her lap. "I have my reasons, McGee."

"Anything you care to share?" he asked, lifting a curious eyebrow, though his eyes still held a level of contempt that Ziva was not used to. Her pause was long enough, that McGee felt that it was his answer. He pulled his arm from her grasp and quickly exited the car.

"McGee!" Ziva exclaimed, unclicking her seatbelt quickly, and swinging the door open. She watched him stalk toward the bistro. "McGee, please!" She stomped her foot angrily, refusing to chase after him into the restaurant.

He turned as he opened the door, watching her cross her arms stubbornly. "Come on, Ziva. I don't have all day."

"I am no longer hungry."

"Are you serious?" McGee approached her, watching her eyes narrow at his. "Come on, I'm taking you out to lunch."

"You said this was a welcome home lunch. I do not feel very welcome."

"Ziva," McGee sighed. He was not used to arguing with her. In fact, he couldn't really remember any time that he and Ziva were ever on opposing sides of an argument. He had absolutely no idea how to handle her mood. "Let's go inside, we'll straighten this all out." He was now speaking in a low, hushed tone, trying to quell the self-conscious feeling that was creeping in.

"I don't want to go inside. I will just take the bus back to Gibbs' house. It will be fine."

"No, no. Absolutely not. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Why, Tim? Are you afraid I'm going to run off again?" She challenged him with her eyes, stepping close enough to him that he could feel her breath on his face. It was a true standoff.

Tim paused for a moment. "Uh, no," he muttered. "No," he said more resolutely, but his earlier pause had caused his declaration to lose steam. "I was looking forward to having lunch with you."

"And the opportunity to have me alone has provided you with the privacy to berate me about the past year. I understand that you are angry, Tim. I understand that you are simply protecting your partner, and your own ass in the meantime. But you cannot make me stay here, Tim. I am the one that makes that decision. You can't make me feel like everything is okay between us, and then in the next breath accuse me of not being honorable. I am here, Tim. I am staying. I will not feel guilty for taking the time that I needed to separate myself from a life of obligation, death, and religious persecution. I do not want those who I once trusted to feel obligated to help me. I just want the truth, Tim. I just want the truth, and nothing more. No more lies, no more deception."

McGee narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "You get what you give, Ziva."

She could feel her throat closing up at his words, and she could see that he was considering whether or not she understood what he wanted from her. Slowly, she took a deep breath, attempting to push the emotion from her voice, but failing miserably. "I had a nervous breakdown, Tim." Her voice was soft, but her eyes held strong. She could see the slow realization as it slapped him in the face. "I couldn't write or call, or communicate because I was in an institution."

"Ziva," McGee whispered.

She swiped at the tear that had escaped her eye and rubbed it into her cheek. "I have had enough crying about it all, McGee. Let's just have lunch, okay?"

McGee watched her for a moment, trying not to allow the sympathy he was feeling pour out in his actions. Instead, he gave her a crooked smile and narrowed his eyes. "I thought you weren't hungry."

"I am allowed to change my mind, you know," she said, sucking in a deep breath, grateful for the momentary reprieve from her quickly diminishing composure. When he didn't move right away, she simply grabbed his coat sleeve, and pulled him along toward the bistro entrance.


	15. Forgive and Forget

**Forgive and Forget**

Once they were seated and their orders were taken, Ziva crossed her arms in front of her and smiled across from her former partner. "So tell me about Delilah."

McGee narrowed his eyes at her, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "You're trying to change the subject."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I am succeeding in changing the subject. Tell me about her." She noted the pointed look on his face, and dropped her gaze. "We will talk about it, but I want to hear about Delilah first."

He paused for a moment, reading in her eyes that she was simply stalling, and nothing more. So instead of pushing, he decided to share for himself. "Has Tony told you anything?"

"Just that you are serious about her and that she seems to be able to keep you in line," Ziva smiled when McGee's face turned a slight shade of pink. "She works for the Department of Defense, yes?"

"Yeah, an analyst. She took a position in Dubai several months back, but we talk a lot. We have video chats, and she's planning on coming home for Christmas this year." McGee seemed almost shy talking about his girlfriend, but he also seemed proud.

"It must be hard to have her so far away," Ziva said softly, touching McGee's hand in a friendly gesture. "I am sure you are looking forward to Christmas."

McGee smiled and shrugged, "We are doing well, and it's nice. It's stable. And Tony is right, she's not afraid to put me in my place."

"I find it hard to believe that you get out of line, McGee." Ziva glanced up as their lunch was delivered, a soup and salad for Ziva, and a sandwich for McGee. She nodded politely toward the waitress in thanks, and glanced back to her friend. "She sounds like a good fit for you."

"I think she is. That we are," McGee stammered a little. "That we're a good fit for one another, I mean."

Ziva smiled and nodded. "What is she like?" She asked, as they began to eat their lunch. "I want to know more about this woman that has captured your heart."

McGee flashed a slightly incredulous look to his friend, not expecting that particular question from her. His earlier embarrassment seemed to fizzle away, and a proud smile slipped onto his face. "Well, she's beautiful, and funny. She can handle her own when it comes to Tony."

"Very important in its own right," Ziva laughed.

"Seriously," McGee sighed. "She's stubborn and strong… really smart." McGee paused for a moment, and his face seemed to flash a bit of pain. "You're making me miss her, thanks a lot." His recovery was quick, and he let out a laugh. "I think that you both would get along very well."

"I am proud of you, Tim." Ziva smiled, and reached across to touch his hand again. He didn't pull away, but it did seem odd to him that his friend appeared to be looking for a connection in this way. It wasn't an intimate touch, just a friendly pat on his hand. But it was far beyond what he was used to when he thought of the strong, independent woman that had left her friends and family to find the future that she felt she needed to survive.

In a bold gesture, he turned his hand, capturing hers. Ziva gasped slightly, though she didn't pull away, and knew by the look in his eye that it was her turn for an explanation. "You want me to talk now."

"Yeah," he nodded, releasing her hand, he returned to eating. "You owe me." When she didn't say anything, he looked up at her and caught the fleeting look of fear in her eyes. "Hey, you can talk to me. You know that."

"I know," she whispered, nodding her head. Suddenly, her appetite seemed to wane, and the food before her just didn't seem appetizing. "I haven't told anyone about it yet."

"You don't have to tell me, Ziva. If you're not comfortable…"

"The cat is already out of the hat, McGee."

"Bag, Ziva. The cat is out of the bag." McGee corrected without even thinking. The confusion that crossed her face just made him shake his head. "Nevermind, I am just saying that if you would rather discuss it with someone else, I'd understand. I got my explanation for the absence of communication, and that should be enough for me."

Ziva shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, no. You are easy to talk to, you do not judge. You do not ask too many questions. You are a good friend, McGee. The very best for this job." Her eyes focused on his for a moment, and he nodded his head just slightly. "It started nearly six months after Tony left, the depression." She sucked in a breath for a moment and closed her eyes, releasing it slowly as if she were trying to calm herself. "It actually started years ago, though managing the stress of the job, and my personal life, my family life was tolerable. I had people here to watch over me, to guide me, or to point out a misstep. It was not constant or even something I was aware of, you know?"

Tim nodded, and watched her carefully. "I know,"

"I was raised in a world where it was not only possible to lose your life in defending your country, or religious honor, it was expected." Ziva swallowed thickly. "I was trained to be a warrior, to be indestructible, to be quick and heartless. That was the person that you came to know."

"That's not true," Tim interrupted, shaking his head. "You were never heartless, ever."

"McGee, who is telling this story?" she teased.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly.

"I said I was trained to be heartless, not that I was." She watched him nod, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "I was used to being expendable. I was used by my father, and by so many others to threaten, to hurt, to kill. I followed orders, and had never questioned them until I came to work with NCIS. When I came here, I realized all that I was missing in life, all that I couldn't have because of who I had become, and all of the things that I had done in the past. These things that were so commonplace, so gratifying, I thought that I couldn't have them." She sighed softly, and could tell that he was listening carefully. "When Tony left me in Tel Aviv, I thought that I was saving him from a life of having to deal with my past. I thought I was protecting my family by removing myself from the death that seemed to follow me wherever I went."

Tim wanted to interrupt her, and she could see that he was ready to defend her once again, but she reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "I started off strong when Tony left. I missed my family, but I was able to carry on with my mission of taking a new direction in my life. I was doing well, traveling and exploring. I tried to stay in small villages and towns, and focused on small odd jobs that were helpful to those in need. Nobody asked who I was, nobody needed to know. I felt safe and secure being completely off the grid. I missed everyone, which was why I sent letters and postcards. I never knew where I was going to be one day to the next, and in a way it felt good." She offered McGee a small smile, and she squeezed his hand. "Unfortunately, it appeared that my nomadic adventures were affecting my health. I wasn't eating properly, losing weight quickly. I felt tired and sad a lot of the time, listless, but I continued to work. One day, I was at the market in a small town in Italy, looking for fresh bread when I suddenly felt heavy and dizzy. Before I knew what was happening, I had completely blacked out. I woke up in the hospital several hours later, delirious with fever."

"When I woke up, I was combative, violent, and I refused to give them any information about who I was. I was paranoid and convinced that I had been poisoned. There was no proof that was true, but I insisted that someone was trying to kill me. I ended up on suicide watch, and they admitted me to the hospital."

"Ziva," McGee whispered, a deep concern evident in his voice.

"I really don't remember a few of the weeks following that. They kept me medicated and fed. There were days I refused to leave my bed. There were days I just cried all day long. I was just so broken, and lost. It was as if I had officially hit bottom. When I stabilized, I was sent to group therapy, but according to my doctor I was despondent and stubborn. I refused to speak to anyone, just simply listened. There was one day where I just snapped though, after hearing a young woman talking about abuse at the hands of her father. I just could not… listen to it, listen to the way she blamed herself. It was killing me to keep my mouth shut, to hear her say how she felt like she deserved it. She didn't deserve it, Tim. It wasn't her fault that her father was a monster."

"I understand," McGee nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. He could see the tears in her eyes, and wished that he could just make her pain stop. He felt honored by her confession to him, but at the same time felt that she was extremely exposed, and wanted to protect her. "You were brave." He said it in a way that conveyed pride and wonder, and not pity or concern. It wasn't a question but a statement to let her know that he loved and supported her.

She took a deep breath and smiled softly. "I started to think about my situation, my life, my past. I began to see that I was doing this journey for myself all wrong. I still had a long list of things that I wanted to accomplish, and I wasn't going to do that by feeling sorry for myself. My birth family is gone. My homeland betrayed me. The only place that I have ever felt safe was here, here with my team, my friends, and my adopted family."

"Hey, we missed you too," McGee whispered softly. "We're glad you're home."

"I am sorry that I made you angry by leaving, McGee. I'm sorry that I hurt everyone. And maybe Gibbs thinks that apologizing is a sign of weakness, but maybe it's about time that I admitted that I am not as strong as I have always thought I was." She took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to calm herself. She swiped at another tear and gave McGee a watery smile. "Thank you for being here for me, Tim."

"Whenever you need it, Ziva." His voice was confident, and he watched her calm even more at his words. They were silent for several moments, and her hand retreated slowly. Her appetite seemed to have returned with a vengeance. She closed her eyes tightly and seemed to shake off the vulnerability.

"We should finish lunch, before Gibbs comes looking for you."

McGee checked his watch and cringed a little. "Yeah, we probably should do that."

The rest of the lunch was spent in companionable silence, with the occasional remark that was kept light and jovial. McGee could sense there was something more she wanted to discuss, but wasn't exactly sure how to bring it up. He insisted on lunch being his treat, paying the bill quickly, and they walked to the car together. Just as he got into the car and started it, he noted that her eyes were on him. "What's up?"

"I want to ask Tony out on a date." She spoke quickly and immediately bit her lower lip and cringed.

"Are you asking for my permission?" McGee teased.

"No, yes… Well, I'm asking for your advice." Ziva clenched her jaw. It was clear that this conversation wasn't easy for her.

"I'm going to have to start charging you soon," McGee laughed.

"I want to ask him out, but I am not the same person I was a year ago," she gave him a sideways glance, and dropped her eyes to her hands.

"Ziva, he loves you. I can tell. Even if you have changed, so has he. If you're not going to be an agent, and you're still craving adventure and a challenge to conquer, there you have it." McGee spoke sincerely and resolutely.

"Are you saying that you think I should… conquer… Tony?"

McGee let out a barking laugh as he pulled the car from the parking lot. "You know what Sir Edmund Hillary said about why he wanted to climb Mt. Everest?"

"No," she said, furrowing her brow.

"He said 'Because it's there'. Tony is there, he's not going anywhere. You'd be a fool not to try."


	16. While I Breathe, I Hope

**While I Breathe, I Hope**

She was running fast in the darkness. At least she thought she was running. She could hear the steady rhythm of feet on pavement, or perhaps it was simply the sound of her heart against her ribcage. No, she was running. She had to be running, she could feel her lungs burning, her skin prickling with the heat of exhaustion. She could hear the wet pavement beneath her feet, slapping in the puddles as rivulets of water streamed down her skin. Water and sweat soaking her brow, rolling down her face and into her eyes. She was running hard, her breathing labored and her heart pounding. With each step she could hear another step out of rhythm of her own, chasing after her quickly.

"Stay away!" she grunted angrily, picking up her pace. "Just stop! Leave me alone!" She could smell the dirt of the alley, feel the sweat on her body, and she could taste the blood in her mouth. "Get away from me!" Her arms flailed, coming into contact with something hard, she pushed again, forcing her feet to move faster. "No!" Suddenly, she was trapped against a wall. The dark figure chasing was moving toward her impossibly fast. Standing in the corner, she pushed her back against the wall and crouched down, covering her face with her hands. She could hear the pounding of feet, and feel something wrap itself around her. Crying out, she fought to escape, sobbing in fear. "No!" Her voice was muffled by something near her mouth, and a sob escaped. "Please, stop. Please?"

Her eyes popped open and she found herself staring into the depths of a pair of terrified blue eyes. It took her a moment to acclimate herself. That moment was all it took to take in the smell of sawdust on his clothes and skin, and the rough touch of his hands on her arms as he held her tightly against his body. "Gibbs," she said, sucking in a deep breath to hold back the sob in her throat. She watched as his demeanor turned from defensive to comforting in just a split second, loosening his grip on her carefully.

"Hey," his hand pushed back the long curls that had blocked her eyes, and he said nothing more. Gibbs could feel her trembling beneath his touch, her back shoved into the corner of the bedroom, the blankets thrown from the bed onto the floor. "Hey, it's okay." Her breathing was labored, and there was a wet sheen of sweat that dampened her hair and skin.

"Gibbs," she choked out again, unsure of exactly what to say. "What time is it?"

"It's almost three in the morning," Gibbs ran his hand soothingly down her arm, slowly releasing her. "Ziver, are you okay?" He leaned back carefully and offered his hand to her. She took the proffered hand and they pulled themselves to standing. "You were sleeping when I came home from work, I didn't want to wake you. Are you alright?"

Ziva refused to let go of his hand for a moment, but dropped it when she realized how tightly she held it in her grip. "I think I'm alright now." She took in his disheveled appearance. His hair was standing on end, and the sweatshirt he was wearing was crumpled. She could still see the sleep in his eyes hiding behind the concern. "I woke you," she whispered.

She watched the corners of his eyes crinkle and a small smile play at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, but it's okay, nightmares happen. Are you sure you're alright? Is there anything you want to talk about? Is there anything you need me to get for you?" Gibbs asked softly, tipping his head to catch her wandering gaze. "Ziva?" Gibbs watched her eyes flick to his and hold his gaze steadily for a moment. She straightened and took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact.

"No," she said, the lie obviously falling flat. "No, not right now." After her confession to McGee earlier in the day, she had felt absolutely exhausted. He had dropped her off at Gibbs' house, and she had spent the rest of the day in her pajamas, keeping herself busy with reading, and her job application. She had crawled into bed a little after six o'clock, and fallen quickly to sleep. The peace of the house only settled her in further.

"You know I'm here, right? You know you can talk to me about anything." Gibbs watched her gaze meet his again.

"I know, Gibbs." She nodded and swallowed hard. "I am okay now. I promise, I'm okay now."

Gibbs could see that even in her promise, there was a level of unease. He leaned down and picked up the blankets, tossing them back on the bed. "You're not alone, kid. You know that, right?"

Ziva climbed into the bed, and beneath the covers, watching Gibbs sit on the edge beside her. "I know," she whispered. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes tightly. "The nightmares are not as clear as they used to be, not as frequent. Thank you for checking on me." She felt like a small child, asking her father to sit with her for a moment after a nightmare. She was grateful that he took a moment to be quiet and watch over her. It had been a long time since she had someone to do that for her.

Gibbs said nothing, simply nodded his head as he watched her eyes. She was focusing on him, looking at him as if she wanted to explain everything to him, but something was keeping her from doing it. He knew that she wouldn't open up until she was ready.

"I no longer sleep with a weapon under my pillow, just in case you were concerned about that." She said it seriously, but her smile slipped onto her face when she saw him shake his head and gently laugh.

"I'll admit, it did cross my mind before I came into the room," he chuckled.

"I have no need for a weapon for protection. Besides, you are downstairs. If there is danger in the house, I think there is a very good chance that it wouldn't make it to the bottom step of the stairs." Her words were sincere, and she let out a mighty yawn.

"I will always do what I can to protect those that I care about, Ziver. Get some sleep." He patted her hand and watched her smile and rub at her eye. "When this case is over, Abby wants to have a welcome home party for you."

She smiled sleepily and shook her head. "She doesn't have to do that, Gibbs."

"You try telling Abby that she can't do something." Gibbs said, laughing to himself, and he quietly left the room.

* * *

When Ziva woke again three hours later, she quietly stepped down the stairs to find that Gibbs had already left. She wondered for a moment if it had something to do with their case, and knew that even if she had asked him, he wouldn't share. She walked toward the kitchen to find a nearly full pot of coffee waiting for her. She smiled when she stepped over to the pot and found a clean mug, and a newspaper beside it opened to the 'apartments for rent' section. "Very subtle, Gibbs," she whispered.

She poured a cup of coffee, and dragged the newspaper to the table, dropping it onto the wooden surface, she settled into a chair and opened the pages to the real estate section. Her thoughts strayed to the goals that she had set for herself for her return. Her fingers nimbly scanned the different selections of homes, and she tried to picture herself as a homeowner. The thought didn't stir anxiety within her that she had expected. Instead there was a warmth of excitement. She smiled to herself after a moment, picking up a pen from the table, she began circling feasible candidates for making her life in Washington D.C. a little more permanent.

* * *

**A/N- I do apologize for the slight filler chapter. Usually when I write, I have someone right here to help me brainstorm. Unfortunately, I am on my own on this one. I do have some ideas, and will move forward. I hope that you are enjoying. Review if you like, it always seems to get my writing to go a little faster ;)**


	17. He Who Dares, Wins

**He Who Dares, Wins**

It was a typical morning for Tony DiNozzo, stepping off the elevator, his eyes flicked to the desks of his coworkers and sipped at his newly procured cup of coffee. He hissed at the heat from the beverage, and glanced to McGee's frantic typing. "Hey, we get something new?"

"Yeah, where have you been?" McGee asked, glancing to his partner with an irritated scowl.

"It's only 0800, I'm on time."

"I've been here since 0500 working on this encryption algorithm," McGee replied, glancing to Gibbs' empty desk. "Boss has been in MTAC all morning talking to the Lieutenant's CO."

"Right, and that involved me how?" Tony teased, stepping around his desk, he sat down. "Bishop here yet?"

"She's with Boss up in MTAC," McGee said, without looking up from his screen.

"So you're saying that I am the only one that wasn't called in?" Tony asked, glancing up to MTAC, and back down to his partner.

"No, I'm saying that when we left last night, there was nothing that needed to be done. This morning, there were algorithms, which I need to work on. Gibbs called in Bishop because she's the probie, and the probie gets to wake up at 0400 and meet with the victim's CO."

"Ah, got it." Tony nodded.

"Do you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs voice boomed from behind him, and Tony swiveled his head to see him marching down the stairs with Bishop at his heels.

"Yeah, Boss."

"And would you care to explain exactly what you 'got' to everyone else?" Gibbs asked, rounding the corner to his desk, he glanced to his senior field agent suspiciously.

"Uh, right," Tony nodded, moving toward the plasma screen, he glanced to McGee, and received a halfhearted smile in response. He used the remote control on the screen and started to run through what he knew about the suspect, and a hunch he had about the victim's neighbor. They still had minimal evidence on the board, and no trace of the baseball bat that was used to kill their victim. "Abby said yesterday that the suspect's car was clean, nothing was found at the gym that the suspect frequents."

"Though his alibi doesn't check out, we just can't corroborate whether or not he was at home at the time of the murder." McGee interrupted. "Working on the victim's laptop still. We thought maybe there were some items in the deleted items that we were able to recover, but still nothing."

"So what you're saying, is we have nothing?" Gibbs asked, glancing to his team.

"We're saying that we're still looking, Boss." Tony said quickly. He tossed the remote to Bishop and moved toward his desk. "I am stopping over at the crime scene one more time, then I was going to interview the neighbor. I need to ask him a few questions about the suspect. We were going to go over there yesterday, but the neighbor wasn't home."

"Go," Gibbs nodded. "Take Bishop. McGee, go work with Abby on that computer whatever thing. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help on it."

A chorus of 'on it, boss' rang through the office, and the team scattered quickly.

* * *

Tony's gut feeling of going back to the crime scene ended up sealing the case pretty quickly. Upon a more thorough investigation of the bushes on the outside of the neighbor's property, they were able to find the baseball bat that had been used to murder their Lieutenant. Fingerprints matched the neighbor, who had been a close friend of the suspect. The blood on the bat matched the victim, case closed.

It was nearly seven in the evening when Tony pulled up to his apartment. He was a little hungry, but mostly tired from the long day of work. He was looking forward to taking a quick shower, and then running over to Gibbs' house to see if Ziva wanted to grab a bite to eat. As he walked up the steps of his apartment building, his thoughts were on the beautiful woman who had swept back into his life like a whirlwind. His mind was so pre-occupied, he failed to notice the telltale signs that his apartment was currently occupied.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, walking toward the fishbowl that was typically his first stop, he furrowed his brow. The fish flakes that were usually on the shelf above the bowl were currently sitting beside it. "Must have forgotten to put it away," he muttered to himself, sprinkled some flakes into the bowl and whistled through the apartment. He dropped his suit jacket across the back of the couch, moving in a quick fluid motion toward his bedroom. He dropped his badge and set his gun down on the shelf, and suddenly stopped. He was sure that he had heard a soft humming somewhere near, but was positive that it was just in his imagination.

He pulled the shoulder holster off, and tossed it on his bed, loosening his tie, he listened again when he heard the humming. Turning his head, he noticed that the bathroom door was closed, something he was positive he hadn't done when he left that morning. He stepped toward the bathroom door and heard the distinctive humming of a female voice, and a gentle splashing of water. "Hello?" he said, tapping on the door.

"Tony?" the female voice sing-songed.

Tony cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah?" It was taking him a moment to register the owner of the voice, and he heard another gentle splash.

"You can come in."

The voice was clearly familiar now, and his brow furrowed as he opened the door just a crack. "Ziva?" He couldn't see inside, just hear the gentle splash of water.

"You can come in, Tony."

"Uh, it's okay," he stammered, unsure of exactly what was going on. "What… brings you over here?"

"Tony, please come inside. I don't want to shout."

Tony closed his eyes tightly, covering his eyes with his hand for extra guard, and stepped into the bathroom slowly, facing the door. He could hear her laughter bubble through the room at his refusal to look, and could immediately feel his face burning red. "So, what brings you over to my place?" he asked.

"Tony, it's okay. I'm covered, you can turn around."

He sighed, slowly turning to face the bathtub, his hand still over his eyes. "Ziva," he sighed.

"I promise," she laughed.

After a moment, he separated two of his fingers, and looked between. What he saw nearly took his breath away. She was covered, as she had said, covered from chest to toe in white fragrant bubbles that blanketed her body. Her skin glistened with the oils of the soap, and her smile was radiant. Her hair was tied up at the top of her head in a sloppy ponytail, and her dark eyes danced over his features in a look of absolute and total delight. "See, I'm covered," she said with a child like humor to her voice.

"It's a shame," he teased, a charming smile lighting his eyes in a mischievous way. "So are you going to answer my question?"

"I wanted a bath, and Gibbs only has a shower."

"So you broke into my apartment for a bubble bath?"

"Would you like me to leave?" she asked playfully, as she started to sit up, he closed his eyes and covered them with his hand again.

"No! No… no, stay," he rushed to say, listening to her laughter, he couldn't help but laugh too.

"I am making you uncomfortable." Her statement was said with such humor, it was clear that she was amused by the fact.

"No, I'm just… not used to coming home to a beautiful, naked woman in my apartment. That's all." He didn't hear her moving around, and ventured a peek. She was still hidden by the bubbles. She crooked her finger to him, and he obliged slowly, kneeling beside the bathtub.

"I will be out in a few minutes, okay?" She ran a damp finger over his hand that he had grasped the side of the tub with.

"Okay," he nodded, seemingly mesmerized by her gaze. "Don't rush out on my account, case is closed. I'm in for the night."

She hummed a tuneless reply, lifting a curious eyebrow. "Would you like to go out and get something to eat?"

"I, uh… prefer to eat in, if you don't…" His sentence was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. "Are you…"

"That's the pizza that I ordered. Would you mind getting it? I'm indisposed…." She smiled slyly at him, and he let out a laugh.

"Ziva," he said her name, stretching out the two syllables to elongate it with a husky, low voice. The doorbell rang again, and he shook his head and stood up.

She crooked her finger at him again, and he came nearer, leaning down toward her slowly. "Mm…" she mumbled, tapping her finger on her lips, he smiled and dropped a soft kiss in its place. "I will be right out."

He felt a shudder down his spine, and narrowed his eyes. When the doorbell rang again, he jumped up and headed for the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Keep your pants on!" He took a quick look back at Ziva and tossed her a sly grin, reveling in the sound of her laugh as he turned to get their dinner.


	18. Honesty Is The Best Policy

**Honesty Is The Best Policy**

Ziva stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped securely in Tony's dark blue plush terry cloth bathrobe, her hair was still pulled up, and her arms hugged her body slightly as she padded into the living room. She noted that Tony was setting the pizza box on the coffee table, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers with a welcoming smile. "Make yourself at home," he teased. He sat on one end of the couch and watched her walk closer.

"Thank you," she teased back, stepping to the couch, she sat down at the corner and pulled her legs up to curl into it, reaching for the box. "I'm starving."

Tony swatted at her hand and opened the box, setting a slice on the paper plate provided, he handed it over to her. "How did you know that I was coming home?"

"McGee called me," she said, pulling a cell phone from the pocket of the robe, she waved it in the air. "I told him to let me know when you left."

"You have a cell phone," he said, watching her with a playfully suspicious glare. When she nodded, his lower lip slipped into his mouth, and he shook his head. "And he has the number."

"I only got the phone today, and I wanted to surprise you." She took a big bite from her slice of pizza, closing her eyes as she let out an appreciative moan. "I have missed Pacci's pizza." She chewed and swallowed, her eyes glancing to Tony, who had yet to serve a slice for himself. He was watching her carefully, and it was unnerving to her. "What's wrong?"

Tony said nothing, he only watched her eyes for a moment, and turned his attention back to dinner. He served himself a slice, and leaned back, focusing on the far wall instead of his houseguest. "So you picked the lock?"

Ziva looked toward him, and tilted her head. "You are not happy to see me." She swallowed her next bite hard, and could feel a tension in the room. This added tension seemed to tug at her resolve, and she began to feel more vulnerable. She watched him take a slow, calming breath, and turn his attention back to her, this time a small smile on his lips. "I am sorry." She said quickly, pulling herself from the couch. "I should go, I'm sorry."

"Ziva," Tony said, standing up to watch her rush toward the bedroom. "Ziva, wait." His only answer was the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut. He turned around and looked at the quickly cooling pizza, and in the air he could smell the scent of the freshly bathed woman who had stalked from him. "Nice, DiNozzo."

Tony stood outside of his bedroom for several minutes, waiting patiently for the door to open again. He felt guilty for making her upset. He glanced back to their forgotten dinner, and sighed. "Ziva," he started, and the door swung open. The petite woman stalked from the room like a whirlwind. Fully dressed and ready to leave, she was heading for the door. "Ziva, wait."

She turned sharply and found that he was only two steps behind her, causing him to nearly collide with her. He reached out and took her arm, hoping that she didn't just snap his fingers off. She looked angry, but her eyes were holding something else. He couldn't tell if it was fear or shame that she seemed to be attempting to push away, but both seemed to be winning out over her attempt at anger.

"What?" she snapped.

"Stay and eat," he said, loosening his grip when he noticed she wasn't pulling away. "Please?"

"I have overstayed my welcome."

"You have not overstayed your welcome. I was just surprised to find you here, in my bathtub. That is all, Ziva."

She straightened and glared at him, a lesser man would be brought to his knees by the look. "You came home slightly earlier than I had expected. I did not intend on still being in the bathtub when you arrived. I was slightly… embarrassed."

"You didn't seem embarrassed," he lifted a brow at her, that cocky smile returning to his lips.

"I was," she replied, softer. "May I have my arm back, please?" she asked politely, feeling his grip release her wrist, she pulled it to her and rubbed the skin gently. She noticed that his brow was furrowed slightly, and his eyes had a very exploring look to them. She had seen that look before, when he was inspecting evidence, or a crime scene. She hated being on the receiving end of it. Suddenly, she felt very exposed. "What?"

"Please stay," he said softly, nodding toward the couch. She thought about it for a moment, and sighed, turning toward the couch, she sat down on it heavily. Tony gave a triumphant smile to her back and moved around to the front of the couch. He sat down and grabbed his plate again, shoving the slice of pizza into his mouth, he gave her a snickering glance. She rolled her eyes and reached for her plate, refusing to look at him as she continued eating her dinner.

They were only another slice in when Tony leaned back and set his plate on the box. He glanced over to Ziva and caught her staring. He tilted his head, and smiled at her, reaching for the plate again. "What?" she asked before he got to the plate. He stopped and looked over at her.

"You seem different," he said. The sentence was supposed to be just him being playful, but it escaped his lips in a serious tone.

"Should I apologize for that?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "No, it's not something bad. It's just… I'm not used to it." he shrugged.

"Is it something that you don't like?"

"You seem more emotional, Ziva. More…"

"Human?" she asked.

"That is not what I was going to say," he defended, giving her a pointed look.

"You used to say that I was robotic. You used to say that I lacked emotion."

"I never said you lacked emotion, Ziva." He tilted his head and looked at her with an expression of calm understanding. "I said that you were very good at hiding your emotions, at not revealing them. When I left you in Israel, you were..."

"Strong," she interrupted. "I was strong when you left me, Tony. It didn't take long for that strength to turn quickly to fear, to sadness, to weakness."

"I don't understand," he said, leaning forward, he watched her intently.

"Sometimes I am afraid to admit to you how weak I truly am, Tony."

"Why is that?" Tony crossed his arms and leaned back, facing her completely. She placed her plate down on the coffee table and wiped her hands on a napkin.

"I am afraid that you will find that I am not the person that you left in Israel. I am afraid that you will find that I am a shell of the strong woman that I once was."

"Ziva, you broke into my apartment. You commandeered my bathtub, and you got me to pay for the pizza that you ordered. I'm fairly certain that you still have the unique powers that define you to me." He chuckled.

"I am weak, Tony."

"Why don't we stop talking in circles, and start with some specifics. This thing," he said, waving a hand between the two of them. "This thing isn't going anywhere if we keep talking in code. So you're going to have to tell me exactly what you have been up to for the past year in order for you and me to go forward with anything." He watched her eyes widen slightly, and her chin jut out in defiance. He tipped his head and looked into her eyes, showing how serious he was being. He reached out and touched her knee, nudging it lightly. "You said you came home to find yourself, right?"

Ziva nodded. Her throat was dry, and her heart was pounding. Talking with McGee had been so easy, but telling Tony the truth seemed to be a task that she wasn't sure she could complete. "I should go," she whispered, but made no move for the door.

"Ziva, no. You're done running. You can tell me anything." He watched her eyes dance with uncertainty. "I joined a men's group. A support group." He blurted suddenly.

"What?"

"Uh, yeah," he stammered, suddenly nervous. "After I left you at the airport, I came home and I joined a men's support group. I mean, not right away… right away I was just a wreck you know? I couldn't sleep, wasn't eating." His eyes flicked to his hands and he refused to look up at her face.

"Tony," she whispered, knowing that his admission was not easy.

"Do you want to know what the hardest part of you not being here?" he asked, finally looking up at her. She tilted her head, and he could see the sadness in her eyes. "The hardest part was how nobody would even mention your name." He sucked in a deep breath and sat back, staring up at the ceiling now, trying to will his emotions to remain in check. "It was like I didn't just leave you in Israel, Ziva. It was like I buried you there." He turned his head to look at her, and he could see the tears flowing freely down her face. "I knew that you were alive, everyone else did, but they didn't mention your name because it just hurt so damn much." His hands lifted, and he rubbed his eyes with his palms. "I just…"

"Tony, stop." Ziva finally interrupted, touching his leg. He looked toward her and she could see the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Ziva, you don't have to…"

"No," she said resolutely. "I do have to apologize. I shouldn't have sent you back here to tell everyone something that I was too weak to tell them myself. When you left me, I thought I was doing the right thing. I did not. I was wrong, and for that I apologize."

"Ziva, I…"

"It is part of my healing process, Tony. To apologize, it is a mandatory portion of my out-patient therapy program."

"Out-patient?" Tony said, his eyes widening, he stood up and faced her. "Out-patient, means that you were… you were an…"

"In-patient," Ziva nodded. "Tony, I also had a difficult time after our separation."

"What… what does this mean?" he asked, starting to pace slightly, she could see that he was getting agitated.

"It doesn't mean anything, Tony. I mean, it's not a bad thing, it's…"

"Yeah, Ziva. It is a bad thing." Tony said, facing her. "It's a very bad thing. I left you, and you… you…It was my fault. I shouldn't have listened to you, I shouldn't have left you."

"Tony, calm down." Ziva stood up and reached for him. When her hand touched him, he flinched and took a step backwards. "Tony, please."

"I need… I…"

"I'm going to go, okay?" She said, taking a step back from him, she watched him try to work everything out. "Tony?" She took her bag and stepped toward the door, unsure of whether or not she should leave him like this or not. "We can talk about this another time, alright?"

"No!" he said suddenly, turning around. There was a pained expression on his face, and his eyes were filled with fear. "No, you can't leave!"

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, as if his plea were more of an order. She knew that it was just a desperate attempt to keep her near, to keep an eye on her. "I should go, Tony. I've told you something that you appear to be having a hard time with. I think that you need some time."

"I don't need time! I don't need to waste any more time! I love you Ziva! I love you, and I missed you, and I need you to stop running away from me, and talk to me about this now!" His words came out quick and clear, and if the expression of surprise on her face were any indication, they were effective. He watched her eyes widen, her breathing hitch, and as his mind caught up with his own words, his eyes widened.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of a cell phone broke through the silence, breaking their stare. Tony turned quickly and picked up his phone, keeping his eyes on the ground. "What?" he shouted into the phone. His hands were trembling, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Hey, DiNozzo." Gibbs snapped. "We have a case."

"It's going to have to wait. I'm in the middle of something here," Tony snapped, pressing the 'off' button, he slammed the phone into the couch and turned his attention back to Ziva. "Now sit down, eat the damn pizza, and talk to me," Tony said with a bite to his words. "Please," he pleaded. He turned, walked to the couch and sat down heavily, waiting patiently for Ziva to do the same.


	19. Save Me, and I Will Save You

**Save Me, and I will Save You**

Ziva was so still, and so surprised by Tony's words, that it took her a moment to start breathing again. When her lungs began to protest the lack of air, she attempted to release it slowly. She managed to remain composed, regardless of the words that had spilled from her former partner's mouth. Her own words were stolen by her teeth clamping down on her tongue for a moment, and suddenly she could taste the faint tang of coppery blood in her mouth.

Tony sat on the couch staring at the pizza box, his interest was so intense it was as if he was trying to move it with his mind. His phone had been discarded and forgotten in the cushions. He moved to rub his face with his palms, his hands trembling as he rested his forehead in his hands and looked down. Neither said a word, and neither made a move. Their moment was frozen in time, and both were aware that the second a word was spoken, the direction of their relationship could be determined.

"Ziva," Tony said suddenly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Ziva, I…"

"Stop," she whispered. She held a hand up to emphasize her point, and her eyes closed. "Just, stop for a second, please."

Tony watched her stand before him with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. "Ziva, it's okay if you…"

"Do you not understand what I just said?" she snapped her eyes open and looked determinedly at him.

"I was just…"

"And I told you to stop," she paused. "Tony," she whispered. "I had a plan,"

He was about to repeat her, indicate that he was listening, but from the look in her eyes, he could see that silence was the best option for the moment. Instead, he simply nodded his head. To most anyone it was an imperceptible motion, but he knew that she could see his request for her to continue what she was trying to say.

Her bag fell from her shoulder to the floor, and her shoulders sagged slightly. "I had a plan," she whispered again.

Tony's film addled brain automatically went to the scene in 'Dog Day Afternoon', when Al Pacino's character, broken and giving up, exclaims the same desperate words. Again, he chooses to let her lead the conversation. He did, after all, agree to keep quiet. Instead of tossing in his film quip, he reached over and gently placed a hand on the cushion beside him, indicating for her to sit beside him.

She looked to his peace offering, and back to his eyes, and stepped toward him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the spot beside him. Ziva could feel his eyes on her, she could almost hear the questions on his lips as he sat silently and waited for her. Her voice didn't seem to want to cooperate, and when she opened her mouth to speak, the air that escaped carried with it a near sob. The tightness in her chest was moving into her throat, and her eyes were quickly filling with tears. "I haven't cried this much in a very long time," she whispered, unsure if he heard what she had said. Her eyes squeezed closed and she took another deep breath. After a moment, she felt his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back. "I need to make something very clear to you," she whispered.

She turned toward him and looked at him. She could see the pain and fear in his gentle green eyes. These were the eyes that she dreamed of, the eyes that kept her above water when she felt like so many people were pulling her to her watery grave. "I need you to understand, and to accept, Tony. I need you to trust me when I say, that what I went through in the past year had nothing to do with you leaving me behind." She could see that defiant glare begin, and wanted to slap it off his face. "What I went through started long before you, it started long before I came to America. It was a long time in coming, and I needed to experience it and fight through it in order to come home. If you want to take any blame or responsibility for any of it, I need you take responsibility for my recovery, for my survival. Do you understand?" She could see the hesitation in his eyes, in the way his brow furrowed at her words. He nodded slightly, but she could tell that it was with trepidation.

Ziva shifted slightly, turning so that she could face him more fully. She reached for his hand, and he let her take it in her own, grasping his fingers tightly. "The day that I was born, there was a plan for me. Whether or not I was a boy or girl, the plan was always for me to be what my father wanted me to be. I was to be nothing less than the best. I had seen what happened when you were not in my father's favor. I grew up in a very volatile place, surrounded by extremely volatile people. As I grew, I continued my father's plan for me. From childhood, to adulthood, and that is where things began to go badly. The truth is, I am not sure that my father ever planned for me to make it to adulthood." She felt Tony squeeze her hands, and his fingers began to lightly caress her hands.

"I was the strong person that my father had wanted me to become, but I had also grown to care, and to love," she whispered as she squeezed his hands back. "I loved my mother, my sister, my brother. I loved my father. Each one of these people, I loved, I still love. With each death, the solid, stoic person that I always thought I had become seemed to break away." Her voice cracked, and she closed her eyes to attempt to regain her composure. "I loved them, and I lost them. I survived that, Tony. The day that my father died, the plan for me died with him. Maybe it had ended years before, when I had come to work for NCIS, maybe it was when Ari died. Maybe it ended when he believed I had died on the Damocles, I don't know. All I know was that I had no plan, no family, and a list of regrets so long and so horrible, that it was a wonder that I didn't take my own life just to end the suffering that I had caused."

"Ziva," Tony whispered, garnering himself a sharp glare. "Sorry," he mumbled, though she could see the sparkle in his eye.

"I had a plan too, as you know. A plan that was separate from my father's plans."

"The list," Tony whispered.

"Yes, the list." The smile on her face was almost wistful, and her eyes focused on their hands. "After you left," she whispered and looked up at him. "After I made you leave. I went back to the olive grove and dug up the box. I… destroyed it." She expected a reaction from him, but was instead welcomed by a nod of understanding. "I was tired of plans, Tony. I was tired of expectations and obligations. I was tired of rules and orders. I was tired of letting people down, tired of people dying. I was weak."

Their eyes were locked for several moments. She was looking for understanding, and he was looking for answers. He carefully reached his hand to her face, tenderly tucking a tendril of fallen hair behind her ear. "Being tired is not a weakness, Ziva. Giving up is weakness."

"I gave up, Tony." She swallowed hard at the words and tried to keep eye contact. Her eyes dropped to their hands, and in a moment, he was pulling her toward him. Her arms found their way around him, and her head rested in the crook of his neck as her body slid into his lap with no effort at all. He held her for several moments, rocking her gently in his arms as she trembled and tried to hold herself together. "I love you, too." She whispered, feeling his gentle kiss on her forehead as he held her.

He hummed softly against her skin, a slight smile on his lips as she slowly calmed. "Tell me more," he whispered. "It's just you and me, you can trust me."

"I have always been able to trust you," she said softly.

"That's never going to change," he whispered, looking into her eyes, he pushed another strand of hair aside.

She gave him a sad smile, and cleared her throat slightly. "I don't want you to be disappointed in me," When he said nothing, her eyes narrowed at him. He simply glared back at her, indicating that she needed to continue. She let out a short sigh of indignation and growled, to which he kissed her nose in response.

"Just tell me, Ziva." He said her name in that playful and irritating way, simply to get under her skin. She ignored his goading and continued.

"It didn't happen all at once, the depression." She looked into his eyes, and they were bright and supportive. "You received my letters, my postcards. I did miss you all terribly, and it was difficult not being able to tell you where I was. The truth was that I never knew where I was going to be one day to the next. It felt nice to travel around and help others where it was needed, to live and survive in a way that I had only seen, but not experienced. However, the longer I was away, the more withdrawn I had become. I found it more difficult to put words to paper, I found it more difficult to place the stamp at the corner of the letter. I felt like I was letting everyone here down, and by writing to you all, I was not giving you the opportunity to forget me."

"Nobody wanted to forget you," he whispered.

"That's not how I felt at the time," she explained. "I abandoned you all, and that was selfish of me." Her eyes strayed from his, and she felt him hold her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and continued. "My nights were riddled with nightmares, my days were filled with work and exhaustion, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. If I stopped, then it meant that I had left you for nothing. I collapsed one day in the market. At the time, I didn't even know I had been sick. My fever was very high. I was undernourished, and exhausted, and they rushed me to the hospital. I was hallucinating, and lashing out, and it all culminated in a deep and dark depression that I thought I couldn't escape."

She realized that as she spoke, he rocked her gently, and for a moment wondered if it was to soothe her, or him. "My time in the hospital was just like your movies. Pill cups and frosted glass windows with mean nurses watching you to make sure you didn't hurt yourself or others. People walking around like zombies, or preaching scripture, or just staring off into space. It was an entirely different world to me. I didn't have a plan there either. I was fine with that… because I was at the lowest point I have ever been in my life."

"Ziva," Tony whispered.

She swallowed hard and shook her head into his shoulder. "Don't say my name like that," she whispered. "Please do not pity me."

"Just keep talking," he whispered back. "I'm listening."

"I was uncontrollable, irritable, angry, and quickly giving up on myself." Ziva said with a little more strength. "I would lay in bed through the days, and I would think about everything that I had lost that was against my own will, against my own wishes. I thought of Tali, her young life cut so short. I thought of Ari, a man who could have been anything, but whose life ended in a pool of blood on a basement floor, despite the fact that the man that I had known had died years earlier at the hands of my father's anger. I thought of my father, a man who demanded love and respect, but did not respect love. These are the people that I had lost to circumstance, lost because of where they were, and who they were, and those thoughts would bring me back to you. I would think of Gibbs, and you, and McGee. Ducky, and Abby, Palmer… You have all become my family, and I lost you all at my own request. I had cast you away as if you meant nothing, hurt you and abandoned you. All you wanted for me was happiness, all you ever asked of me was for me to stay alive, to keep fighting. Somalia, Tony… My father left me in that godforsaken desert to die, and not one of you accepted that." She looked up and took his face in her hands, staring into his eyes. She could see the pain in their depths, the love, and compassion. "I couldn't live without you, Tony."

Her eyes flicked from eye to eye, the pain in her chest nearly unbearable as she spoke. "There were nights where I would dream of the torture of my past. I would wake up screaming for fear of my life and for your life. It took a while for everything to fall into place, but eventually they did. Suddenly, I began to dream of that day, Tony. That day they pulled me into that dirty room with that hood over my face. I would dream of that moment that they pulled the hood from my head and there you were, Tony. It was always you. You were always there." She ran her thumbs over his face and searched his eyes. "Do not feel guilty for what I did to myself, for what my father did to me. Do not feel sorry for me, do not pity me. I am the one that was wrong. The memory of you not giving up on me is what got me through my darkest of days. When I was well enough to think straight, I came to a decision. I needed to come home and make right what I had wronged. I would apologize to those that I had hurt, and move forward in a positive and righteous manner. I needed to win you back."

"You never lost me, Ziva," he whispered.

"I needed for you to love me," she replied.

"I never stopped loving you, Ziva."

"I needed for you to be proud of me."

"I am very, very proud of you, Ziva," he whispered.

His words were rewarded with a radiant smile, and though tears sparkled in her eyes, its beauty was not diminished. "I need to make you happy, in order to make me happy."

"I think you're on the right track," he smiled, leaning forward to capture her lips with his own. He could hear her laugh into his mouth, and it made him smile as the kiss deepened. Just as he tangled his hands in her hair, just as he began to lean her onto the couch with him, there was a sharp knock at the door.

She responded to it by grabbing hold of his shirt tightly, attempting to deepen the kiss a little more, pulling him down onto her, she tugged at his hair, as another sharp knock rapped at the door.

"Tony! Let's go! Grab your gear." Gibbs voice shouted from the hallway.

The sound of Gibbs' voice had been as effective as a bucket of cold water being thrown onto them, and with a few small, lingering kisses, and another pound of the door, the reluctant couple separated, and Tony pulled her up with him. She looked him in the eyes and narrowed them at him, as she reached forward and sharply smacked the back of his head.

"Hey, what was that for?" he asked, his eyes wide but humored.

"For hanging up on Gibbs," she replied with a frustrated sigh. "You know better than that."

At the sound of the knocking becoming louder, he looked toward the door and sighed. He reached over and grabbed her hand, slapped the back of his head with it, and laughed at her giggle as she tumbled backwards onto the couch to allow him room to stand up and answer the door.


	20. Don't Call Me, I'll Call You

**Don't Call Me, I'll Call You**

Gibbs stood impatiently at his agent's door, fist poised to knock again when Tony opened the door a crack. "Hey, Boss." Tony said with a wry smile. "What's up?"

"Maybe I should be asking you that," Gibbs grunted, straightening at the sight of his agent. He gave Tony a glare, and lifted an eyebrow. The younger man appeared to be put together, if but a little disheveled. His tie was loose, and the first two buttons on his dress shirt were popped open, not to mention his normally well-coiffed hair was sticking up slightly. "I interrupt something?"

"Uh, now that you mention it," Tony said, slipping out into the hallway. He closed the door behind him.

Gibbs gave Tony a knowing glance, but it wasn't one that exuded any form of approval. "You hung up on me because you're too busy playing grab ass with your girl of the week to do your damn job?" Gibbs growled.

"No," Tony shook his head, trying to move away from the door, he stepped down the hallway a bit. "It's not like that, Boss. I was…"

"Hey," Gibbs growled angrily. "We have a job to do, DiNozzo. We don't ask for these murders to happen. We don't sit around waiting for a sailor to get shot, or a Marine family to be ripped apart by a bomb. We just do our damn job to make life a little easier for those that have to live through it. Is that too much to ask from you? I mean, if you can't handle the…"

"Hey, yourself!" Tony spoke up, raising his voice at his irritation level for his boss' lack of respect. "Listen, I'm sorry that I hung up on you, okay? You could have left the message on where the scene was, and I would have checked my messages when I got done with what I was doing." Tony spoke in a soft, clear voice. There was no room for argument. "You don't have to show up on my front doorstep like I'm your kid that you're picking up from school. I know how to make my way to a crime scene, okay? I have been doing this for a while. I know what my job is, and I don't need you to push this guilt trip bullshit in my face." Tony's face was twisted in offense and anger, his eyes narrowed with contempt.

"I was on the way to the scene, DiNozzo. I was in the neighborhood, just figured I'd give you a head's up on where we're going."

"I call bullshit," Tony grunted. "You were checking up on me, and you know it. I left the office two and a half hours ago. I think that I have more than earned a little bit of downtime before the next round of the Gibbs grunt fest. I was in the middle of something that I am pretty damn sure is a hell of a lot more important than being the first in line to take pictures at a crime scene, or babysitting a probie agent."

"It's your job, DiNozzo!"

"Well, this is my life!" Tony snapped back, pointing toward the door. "This is my life, and it's about damn time that I started putting it before my job for once." His voice was raised, and he stepped closer to Gibbs.

The door to the apartment opened a crack, and Gibbs' eyes flicked up to see Ziva looking back at him. Her eyes held a curious glint, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her puzzled expression. Gibbs' eyes flicked between Ziva and Tony in just a split second, and the fire in his blue eyes seemed to waver. He took a step backwards from Tony, locking his gaze in a defiant stare. "Just get to the damn scene as soon as you can. I'll text you the location," Gibbs snipped, turning around to head toward the stairwell. Without another word or glance, he slammed his hand into the bar on the door, and quickly exited the hallway.

Tony stood for a moment, surprised by his boss' sudden retreat. He turned his head to see Ziva standing against the door frame, the door only open a crack. He felt a sudden rush of panic, wondering how much of the argument she had heard. She lifted her eyebrows at him, noting his hands were shaking again, his ears bright red with anger, and possibly embarrassment. She opened the door a little more, indicating for him to come inside, and after a moment he started walking dumbly toward her.

As he entered the apartment, she grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn and face her. She looked into his eyes and smiled tenderly. "Are you alright?" she whispered.

"Uh, yeah." He nodded and grasped her hand, pulling her toward him. He came with no resistance, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Sorry about that," he whispered.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she replied softly. She gave him a tight squeeze and sighed slightly, looking up into his eyes. "You should probably go before he gets angrier."

"Let him be angry," Tony grumbled, pulling from the embrace, he still held her hand. "I'm going to take a quick shower and change. You make yourself at home, okay?" He squeezed her hand and released it, watching her eyes shift nervously around for a moment. She seemed lost, like she was feeling out of place. "Hey," he whispered, nudging her softly, she looked up at him. "Seriously, just relax. Pick a movie, play some music. Just relax, okay?"

Ziva nodded mutely and gave him a sad smile. He gave her a wink and turned toward his bedroom, set on getting refreshed and ready for another case.

* * *

Tony stood in the bathroom rubbing a towel through his hair to dry it. He looked up at the mirror and realized how tired he really looked. He let out a heavy sigh and tossed the towel over the towel bar, listening for a moment outside the door before walking into his bedroom. He expected to hear the television, or some movement in the apartment, but was surprised to hear nothing. There was a fleeting moment of panic, a moment where he thought she had been scared away and slipped out into the night without saying goodbye. It wasn't an irrational fear; at least he thought it wasn't. He was able to quash that thought with the knowledge that even after all that they had been through, ultimately he still trusted her with his life, and his heart. He pulled out a set of clean clothes and went about getting dressed. He tucked in his shirt, and pulled a tie around his neck, and grabbed his jacket. Stepping into the living area of his apartment, he immediately saw why there was no sign of Ziva when he had stepped out of the shower. Her curled form lay on her side on the couch, wrapped tightly in the blanket from the back of the couch. Her eyes were closed, resting comfortably against the cushions. He stepped over to her and crouched down, gently pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile slipped onto her lips.

"I was just resting my eyes," she mumbled.

"Sure you were," he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss against her forehead. He watched her narrow his eyes, and began to fix his tie. She reached out and tugged at it, pulling the knot slightly. "My phone?" he asked softly, and she pointed to the table behind him. He glanced back, and then turned to face her again. His voice was suddenly whisper soft. "I probably won't be back tonight, depending on the crime scene. Feel free to stay as long as you like."

She continued to play with his tie, her eyes on the piece of fabric as she though quietly to herself. "I could always drop you off at the crime scene, borrow your car, go back to Gibbs' house. He could give you a ride home later." she shrugged, looking up at him.

Tony let out a hearty laugh, and she smiled slyly at his bright grin. "That's funny, Ziva. You're a funny lady." He laughed, and she suddenly tightened his tie a little too much, sending his hand to his throat, she grinned. "Hey, hey… can't breathe…" he choked a little, mostly to make her smile as she loosened the tie with a flick of her wrist.

"Sorry, must have slipped," she said softly, watching his eyes as he fixed his tie again. "You should probably go." She tugged the tie, and he came willingly, dropping a kiss on her lips. The tightness in his chest was new, but it didn't seem to be pulling the life out of him like it usually did. Strangely enough, it felt right.

"Please, stay." He gave her a sincere glance, tipping his head in question.

"I will think about it," she said, leaning forward for another kiss. She poked his chest lightly with her finger. "Now go, before you end up having to spend all day tomorrow in the office as well."

"Geez, trying to get rid of me already," he teased, standing up, he grabbed his phone with one hand and she reached up and grasped his other. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "I'll be back in the morning."

"I will wait for you," she said, closing her eyes to cuddle back into the pillow on the couch. She missed the radiant smile that lit his face, and he laughed at the little smirk that lifted the corner of her mouth.

He turned and grabbed his holster, gun, and badge to arrange them on his person accordingly. He glanced back to the couch as he pulled his jacket on, and tugged his NCIS windbreaker and hat from the hook beside the door. He snatched up his keys and opened the door.

"Tony?" Ziva said from behind him, sending his head craning in her direction. She was looking at him over the arm of the couch. "Be safe."

"I promise," he smiled, sending her a small wave, before walking into the hallway, closing and locking the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N- Not sure if I should continue, or sequel...or end... I'm not very good with letting things end. Comments are appreciated. - PJ**


	21. And So It Goes

**And So It Goes**

Tony arrived at the scene just as Ducky and Palmer began to load the body into the truck. He slammed the door of his car and stalked toward the yellow barrier tape, stopping for a moment to take the scene in. It was another dark, rat infested alleyway, and another unfortunate sailor on leave, shot and left for dead. He ducked under the barrier tape and walked toward his colleagues, McGee looked up from his notebook.

Tony expected a good old fashioned ribbing, but was only met with a cursory glance from Tim. "What do we have?" Tony asked, confused by Tim's silence.

"Petty Officer Erik Devaux, shot in the head execution style. No weapon retrieved." McGee said, looking back to his notes. "They heard the shots in the bar, but by the time someone got out here, the shooter was gone."

"Where's Gibbs?"

"Inside, interviewing witnesses," McGee muttered.

"And Bishop?"

"Looking for a murder weapon," her voice interrupted them, as she stood up to full height in the dumpster behind McGee. "Hey, Tony. It's nice of you to join us," she chirped.

"Looks like you're in the thick of it there, Probie," Tony said with a snarky chuckle.

"It's your turn, DiNozzo. Hop in," Gibbs voice cut through his nervous laughter, and Tony turned around.

"What?"

"Get in the dumpster," Gibbs said slowly, reaching up to grab Bishop's hand as she attempted to climb out. She hopped to the ground, and Gibbs turned to Tony. "There are eight dumpsters in this alley, they all have to be checked. Unless you want to be here until tomorrow afternoon, then I suggest you plug your nose and dive in." He turned to McGee and sighed. "There are a few more witnesses inside that I haven't gotten to, can you finish them up?"

"Sure, Boss." McGee said, turning toward the back door, he left without another word.

Tony looked around to see Bishop climbing into another dumpster, hands gloved and face puckered into a distasteful grimace. She tumbled inside and disappeared from view. "Boss, come on. You're just trying to punish me for…"

"Yep," Gibbs said, turning around. "Don't forget to wear gloves." Gibbs then turned, and disappeared through the same door as McGee.

* * *

At quarter after six in the morning, Tony's apartment door swung open and revealed a very irritated, and very bedraggled, Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. His eyes skated over the apartment, noting that the Israeli woman that he had left on his couch was now missing. Evidence of their dinner together was cleaned from the room, and the room was spotless. His windbreaker had been left in the office, his cap long since discarded. He pulled off his suit jacket, threw it on the chair and grunted when the knot of his tie wouldn't come loose at his haphazard tug. Once his holster, gun, and badge had joined his keys on the counter, he stumbled toward his bedroom with the gait of a zombie.

Panic or worry wasn't the first thing Tony expressed when he walked into his bedroom to find that his bed was empty as well. At Ziva's absence when she had said she would stay, anger with a bit of disappointment was the first emotion to rear its ugly head.

He gritted his teeth and swung his tie over his head, throwing it onto the bed. He pulled at the buttons on his shirt, dropping the garment on the floor when he was finally able to be rid of it. He unbuckled, and walked out of his pants and boxers, grumbling his way into the shower.

Tony didn't bother to close the bathroom door, and turned on the hot water as hot as it would go. The scalding water was welcome on his skin and aching body, working out some of the kinks that had amassed in the last twenty-four hours. He washed off the unwanted stench of garbage and sweat, trying desperately not to let his thoughts of the woman that he had left alone in his apartment the night before snake into his psyche. He poured shampoo onto his hand and began to knead it into his scalp.

"Tony?" Ziva's voice was loud enough that she may very well have been in the shower with him. He jumped and turned, remembering immediately that his shower was completely glass, and she could see everything. His initial reaction was surprise, and then embarrassment. He moved to cover himself and nearly slipped as his shampoo rolled down into his eyes. Tony let out a guttural yell and pressed his palms into his eyes as he crouched down. He heard her shout an apology and moved to leave the room quickly.

"Ziva!" he shouted, hearing the door close behind her as he grunted another expletive or two. It took him a moment to realize that it really didn't matter what she had seen, or hadn't seen, and he stood up and put his face back under the spray of water. Finishing his shower, he continued to grumble and rant to himself. He wavered between complaining about the soap in his eyes, and complaining about Gibbs. He couldn't help but feel a little warmth at the presence of Ziva, though he was curious about her absence. He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathroom into his bedroom. "Ziva?" he called.

After a moment, the bedroom door opened a crack, and she popped her head in. She said nothing, just looked into his eyes for a moment hoping not to make him feel any more self-conscious than he already seemed to be. She waited for him to say something, but could see that he was doing the same for her. She smiled that Mona Lisa smile at him. "I went for a run. I brought you breakfast." She then closed the door without waiting for a response.

Tony furrowed his brow and sighed, looking toward where he had left his trail of dirty clothes, he noticed that they were no longer in the room. He walked to his dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, keeping an eye on the door as he dressed. He stepped back into the bathroom to run a comb through his hair, only to hear the bedroom door open again. "I'm coming, Ziva."

He walked out of the bathroom to find her leaning against the doorway to the bedroom. Her hair was pulled down out of its ponytail. He noticed that she was wearing a pair of his sweats, and though they were a little big on her, she looked comfortable and beautiful. He stared at her for a moment, desperately fighting the urge to yawn. "You disappeared," he said after a moment

"You cannot keep me caged, Tony. I am not a bird." She teased, turning and disappearing from view. Tony started walking toward the door, when she reappeared with a tray in her hands. On the tray sat two glasses of orange juice and two pastries. "Sit,"

"Sit?"

"On the bed, we will eat breakfast, and then you can get some sleep." She watched him turn toward the bed, this time allowing himself the yawn that was forcing its way from his lungs. He crawled onto the bed and pulled back the blankets, he climbed between the sheets and waited for her. She held the tray and climbed in beside him, putting the tray between them. They pulled the blankets up to their laps, and she went about moving things about on the tray.

He looked at the breakfast that she had brought, and then back to Ziva. "Mm… no coffee?" he groaned.

"No coffee, not if you're going to go to sleep." She handed him a glass of orange juice, and a bear claw, then reached for her own food.

He put the pastry in his mouth and bit down, making a low groaning sound. "Mmm… I think I love you," he mumbled to the pastry.

"Well, that makes me feel good. Coming in second to a fried cinnamon roll covered in frosting," Ziva said, taking a bite of her own pastry.

"I will cover you with frosting and cinnamon… we can compare." Tony teased, still staring at the bear claw. He licked his lips and looked over at her, finding a pair of lusty brown eyes looking back at him. "I was only half kidding."

"Hm…" She nodded, sipping her orange juice. She took a bite of her pastry and admired it for a moment. "That's a shame, I was half considering it."


	22. We Are The Authors Of Our Own Disasters

**We Are The Authors of Our Own Disasters**

Once breakfast was finished, and they had settled together in the bed, Tony fell quickly to sleep beside Ziva. No more than six hours later, as the clock lazily flicked to noon, there was a soft buzzing noise pushing through the serenely silent apartment. It continued in seven or eight pulses and then stopped, only to start up again. Ziva's eyes popped open to the disturbance, and she instantly realized that she was pinned to the mattress by a strong, unmoving arm. The soft snores into her neck, and the legs tangled in her own were enough to lull her closer to sleep again, until she once again was roused by the sound of the soft buzzing in the other room.

Gently, she pulled her leg, instantly feeling his grip around her waist tighten as she attempted to disentangle her body from the snoring man. She moved slightly, and lifted her head, moving her head toward his ear. "Tony?" she whispered softly into his ear.

Tony let out an irritated moan, low and guttural to her whisper. He felt her lips trace gentle kisses over his ear. When she whispered his name again, it was softer, and her gentle breath wisped across his face. He smiled sleepily, keeping his eyes closed.

"Tony, your phone is ringing in the other room," she whispered.

"I don't care," he mumbled, the smile disappearing into a frown. He furrowed his brow at the tone of her voice, and buried his nose back into her neck.

"I don't think this is the first time they've called," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, she felt his grip tighten on her as she tried to roll away.

"Ziva," he whined, finally lifting his hand off her as she began to pull them from their gentle grip on her. "Just ignore it. If you ignore it, it'll eventually run out of battery and it won't ring anymore."

Ziva laughed and shook her head, shoving herself to the edge of the bed, she glanced back at him, and he had grabbed the pillow that she had used, burying his face in it. "Rule number three, Tony. Never be unreachable."

"It's not my rule number three." Tony mumbled into the pillow, his voice muffled.

She gave in and stretched out beside him, kissing his forehead gently, as she ran her fingers through his hair. "No, your rule number three is 'never underestimate an opponent'," she said, leaning over him. "Right now, Gibbs is your opponent. I wouldn't underestimate his ability to get you out of bed."

"It's only noon," he mumbled. "I don't have to be in until two."

"I'm going to get it anyway," she said softly, rolling for the edge of the bed again, he captured her hand quickly. "What?"

"Thank you for not leaving," he mumbled, opening his eyes to see her watching him intently, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Suddenly, the buzzing began once again. "I'm going to go get your phone now."

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "Just take a hammer to it when you're done with it." He watched her roll her eyes playfully, and pull her hand from his grip. She turned and quickly left the room.

She padded down the hallway toward the pile of clothes that she had cleaned up that morning from his impromptu strip show through the apartment, and retrieved the phone, just as it began to ring again.

"Hello?"

There was a long pause, and silence. Just before she greeted the caller again, they responded. "Uh, I'm sorry to disturb you, Ma'am, but is Tony there?"

"McGee?" Ziva said with a ring of humor in her voice.

"Ziva?"

"Tony is sleeping right now, is there something that I can do for you?" She kept her voice down, but smiled into the line.

After another exaggerated pause, McGee cleared his throat. "Uh, well. Boss says he needs him in earlier than two. I just got here, and we've already got some leads on the case."

Ziva nodded, glancing toward the bedroom. "I will wake him and send him on his way."

"Thanks, Ziva." Tim smiled. "Oh, um… Sorry about the Ma'am thing a second ago."

"Forgiven," she laughed, hanging up the phone. She put set the phone on the counter and sauntered back into the bedroom. When she arrived, she found that Tony had wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, cocooning himself tightly.

An unintelligible mumble came from the messy lump in the middle of the bed. "What was that?" Ziva asked, slinking across the mattress, to pull the blanket from his head. He looked at her with a grumpy scowl.

"I don't think it would be appropriate to repeat in the company of a lady," he muttered. "What did McInterruptis want?"

"Gibbs needs you earlier than two o'clock," she said, pushing his unruly hair from his forehead.

Tony growled a little, and let out a sigh, before pulling the blanket back over his head. She sighed and turned to lie on her back. "What did you do with my suit?" he muttered from his cocoon.

"The one that smelled of rotten cheese, and dirty diapers?" she asked lightly.

He flipped the blanket from his face and glared in her general direction. "Yes."

"I was thinking of incinerating it." She turned her head, and looked at him, noting the smirk he was trying in vain to hide. "How did it come to be in that condition?"

"Dumpster diving. Senior field agent, and I am climbing into trash bins until the early hours of the morning like a probie," he grumbled.

"Perhaps you should get your own team," Ziva shrugged, glancing to her former partner. She watched as a rush of emotions flooded his eyes, and he couldn't tell if she was being flippant or if she was serious. "Unless you want to continue to let Gibbs be the one that tells you what to do for the rest of your life… and when you don't do what he says, you have to answer to him."

"Ziva, it's not that easy," Tony replied, turning onto his side fully, he loosened himself from the blankets. "Gibbs needs someone he can trust to watch his back. He trusts me."

"He trusts McGee too. Maybe it's time that he learned to trust others." She turned to face him on her side as well. "I don't like the thought of you having to defend yourself to him all of the time."

"He was just throwing his weight around last night because I hung up on him. It wasn't personal, Ziva. He was just trying to make a point." He reached out and ran a finger over her cheek. "Don't you sometimes wonder if he's just grooming me to take over for when he retires?" Tony shrugged. "I'd like to think that is what he's doing."

"Well, unless you know for certain, Tony. Gibbs is just being a bully." She said, sitting back up. "I need to take a shower and get going. I have an appointment this afternoon, and I have to get to Gibbs' house to change into something that I didn't wear yesterday."

He watched her climb from the bed, and flit across the room toward the bathroom. "Ziva," he called just as she was about to close the door. "I'll drop you off at Gibbs'."

She passed off a suspicious smile and narrowed her eyes. "Of course you will. I will not do this walk of shame on my own." she winked at him and disappeared behind the door.


	23. What It's All About

**What It's All About**

Tony skulked toward his desk with his bag on his shoulder. He was impeccably dressed, and the only indication of his exhaustion was the extra set of rings beneath his eyes. He swung his bag forcefully onto the floor against the side of his desk, making his two team members jump.

"Oh, hey." Ellie said, sending DiNozzo a cheery smile. "Did you get some sleep?"

Tony looked up at her with an irritated grumble, though it was clear he was answering in the affirmative, it was unclear of exactly what language.

Tim looked up, ready to rib Tony for Ziva answering his phone, but from the glower on his partner's face, he thought better of it. "I'm really sorry I had to get you up, Tony."

"Mmhm…" Tony mumbled. "So what do we have?"

"Not much," Tim replied without thinking, though the sharp smack of a paper ball against the side of his head was enough of a reply from Tony. "Gibbs wanted everyone here, Tony."

"His aim is getting better," Ellie said, looking to Tony, who was glaring at her as he crumpled up another piece of paper. "I mean…"

"You mean you're getting back to work." Gibbs finished her sentence, marching into the room with two cups of coffee. He set one on Tony's desk and headed toward his.

Tony perked up a little, glancing at the cup, and over to his boss. "Thanks, Boss. Peace offering?"

"No, they accidentally put sugar in it, and I didn't want to waste. Drink the coffee and wake up. McGee, what do we got?" Gibbs turned toward the plasma screen just as McGee put up a profile on their victim.

"We have Petty Officer second class Eric Devaux. Thirty eight years of age. Born and raised in Long Island, mother deceased, father is not in the area. Went to Ohio State University for physical education, then entered the NYPD police academy at the age of…" McGee said, his voice unaffected by the information he was giving.

"Twenty one." Tony said, his eyes on the dark haired, green eyed sailor in front of him. McGee turned to look at Tony and noticed his rapt attention on the screen.

"Served on the NYPD until the age of thirty when he joined the Navy." McGee continued.

"What, Tony?" Bishop asked, watching the almost starry eyed expression on her partner's face.

"It's just a coincidence, Tony." McGee insisted.

"Petty Officer second class, he should have been further along." Bishop chimed in.

"Apparently Devaux had a penchant for pranks and goofing off. He had been reprimanded on numerous occasions but never formally censured. It kept his rank low, but also with his age and experience, he was probably on his way out anyway."

Gibbs ignored his senior field agent's open eyed stare at the victim, and shook his head. "Any enemies?"

"Anyone who he arrested when he was with the NYPD, fellow sailors with an axe to grind." Bishop shrugged, looking to Gibbs' pointed stare. "I'll get right on that," she said quickly moving toward her desk.

"He wasn't robbed." McGee pointed out. He turned his head to see that Tony was now squinting at the screen. "Tony, it's just…"

"I don't believe in coincidences, Probie." Tony said, snapping back into gear. "What do you mean he wasn't robbed?"

"His wallet and watch were still on him."

"Married?" Gibbs asked.

"Perpetual bachelor, Boss. He apparently had a string of girlfriends, according to some of his shipmates. Commitmentphobe."

Tony scoffed, turning toward his desk. "DiNozzo, it says on his service record that Devaux was on the USS Seahawk at the same time you were Agent Afloat. Does he look familiar?" Gibbs snapped.

"There were thousands of men on that ship, Boss. They all looked the same to me." Tony sat at his desk and stared at the picture of the petty officer on the screen for several more moments.

Gibbs' phone rang suddenly, and he snapped it open as he stared across at Tony. "Yeah, Abs." After a beat, he nodded his head. "We'll be right down." He closed his phone and headed toward the elevator. "DiNozzo with me. McGee, see if you can get a handle on the petty officer's timeline. Where he was, who he talked to."

"On it, Boss." McGee nodded, sitting at his computer.

Tony stood obediently, and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

* * *

The ride on the elevator was slow, silent, and painful. Gibbs stared straight ahead, and Tony stared at the ceiling as he willed the silence to remain just a little quieter. Just as Gibbs took a deep breath to say something to Tony, the door opened, and Tony marched from the elevator toward Abby's lab.

"What do ya got, Abs?" Tony asked, walking briskly around to the other side of the forensic scientist. He noted her glare and shrugged sheepishly. She turned her head toward Gibbs. Instead of speaking, he gave her a slight smirk, and nodded toward the screen.

"It's more about what we don't have, Gibbs." Abby said quickly, noting the slight glare of impatience in his eye. "Oh, Gibbs. Besides a magician, who do you know that can pull something from nothing?"

"I had an uncle who could make a toothpick out of a…" Tony stopped when he saw two sets of eyes glaring at him. "I'm sorry, go on."

"As I was saying," Abby said, straightening up. She let her fingers fly over the keyboard as several images popped onto the screen. "The crime scene is pretty clean. No fingerprints that were identified as anything of importance. A few workers from the bars and restaurants, and a couple of partials that were probably from a homeless person, or a dumpster diver. The victim wasn't forced. It appears that he was actually on his knees looking for something."

"A contact lens?" Tony said sardonically, eliciting a glance from Abby.

"A contact lens, maybe a coin, or something. His handprints are on the ground right near where he was kneeling."

Gibbs phone rang, and he snapped it open while still staring at the screen in front of him. "Yeah, Duck. Did you want me to come over, or… okay. I'll check evidence. Okay. Thanks, Duck." Gibbs snapped his phone closed and looked up at the expectant glances of his captive audience. "Eyeglasses. He had his eyeglasses swiped from his face, did we see any eyeglasses at the scene?"

"Ha!" Tony exclaimed. "I don't wear eyeglasses!" His eyes widened when the two pairs of eyes flicked to him again. He turned around and pretended to fiddle with one of Abby's machines.

Abby turned and slapped his hand with a growl. "I didn't see any eyeglasses in the piles of trash they brought in this morning." She said, glancing to Gibbs. "Sorry, Gibbs."

"It's alright, Abs," he replied, giving Abby a light kiss on the cheek. "Gives DiNozzo something to look into this afternoon." With that, he turned and walked toward the elevator.

Tony went to follow after as Abby grabbed his arm. "Hey," she said, watching him turn. "McGee said that Ziva answered your phone this morning. What's that all about?"

"The hokey pokey, Abs." Tony smirked. "That's what it's all about." With that, he turned to walk out of the lab.

"Wait a minute! Who is pokeying whose hokey?" Abby shouted to nobody. With no response, she shook her head and smirked, turning back to her computer.


	24. Beware The Fury of a Patient Man

**Beware The Fury of a Patient Man**

It was nearly seven in the evening when Tony arrived at the bullpen after his stint at the crime scene again. Though he didn't literally climb into the dumpsters this time, there was still a lingering stench that seemed to stick to his clothes. He set his bag on the desk and rearranged a few things, giving a brief glance over to McGee's desk. "Anything new, probie?"

"Nothing. No shoe prints in the alley, no tire tracks, no hairs or fibers, fingerprints. It's like the guy came outside, knelt down, closed his eyes and a gun materialized." McGee sighed and glanced to the plasma, which only held the picture of the fallen officer. "You didn't find the glasses?"

"No. Any chance he was wearing contact lenses or something? Maybe his vision wasn't that bad." Tony shrugged, sitting heavily in his chair.

"His vision was pretty bad, Tony. It was one of the reasons he was looking to retire, and Ducky checked for contact lenses. He was the one that called Gibbs about the glasses," Ellie chimed in.

"I know, I know," Tony muttered. He sniffed his jacket and winced. "I have to get home and change."

"Hot date, Tony?" Ellie teased.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Tony looked at his watch and winced again. "Where's Gibbs?"

"He's around here somewhere," McGee said, typing something on his computer, he glanced to Tony, noting the glare that he was getting. "What?"

"Nothing," Tony mumbled. Suddenly, his phone rang, and his hand slammed down at the receiver as he pulled it to his ear, continuing his glare at McGee. "DiNozzo."

McGee watched DiNozzo accept the call from the switchboard, and sigh, flipping a pen in his hand. He then watched as his partner leaned back in his chair and lazily began talking.

"DiNozzo."

"Good evening," the voice on the other line said softly. It was matter of fact and calm, but the slight pause seemed to linger a little longer than expected. "Agent Anthony DiNozzo?"

"That's me. What can I do for you?" Tony asked, glancing to McGee. His eyebrows were slightly raised, and he waited another moment.

"I would like to report a homicide."

Tim noticed that Tony's back became straight as he spoke on the phone, and their eyes were locked as Tony enunciated his next sentence. "You'd like to report a homicide?" Tim immediately began to attempt a trace on the call. "Now we work with mostly military personnel and their immediate family, would this fall into that category? Have you attempted to call the police."

"I don't want the police, Agent DiNozzo. I'm looking for you."

Tony swallowed hard. The voice was getting darker and angrier, and Tony couldn't place it, but could feel the hair on his neck begin to lift. "Do you want to know where to find the next body or what?"

"Next body?" Tony asked. He elevated his voice so that McGee knew to listen carefully.

McGee listened and typed, rolling his hand in the air as he communicated to Tony to keep the guy on the line. Ellie was now looking between her partners, and turned her head to see Gibbs walking up behind her. "Tony has a weird phone call."

"It's DiNozzo, all of his phone calls are weird," Gibbs snapped with a bit of a smirk, though his smile disappeared when he saw the pale and stricken look on his senior field agent.

Tony listened to the voice on the other end of the line as it became colder and more stiff with each word. He asked if it was a prank, trying to laugh it off, but could feel that there was an intense seriousness to the caller.

"Did you like the gift I left you in the alley last night?"

Tony swallowed hard and glanced to McGee, who gave him a thumbs up indicating that he had a hit on the call, and he looked down at his screen. Tony could tell that something was wrong. McGee flagged Gibbs to his desk, and they were looking at the screen as Tony listened to the man breathing, unsure of what to say.

"You still there, DiNozzo? So do you want to know where you're gonna find your next body?"

Tony gave a non committal reply, watching his boss and partner converse silently. "Yeah. Where is the next body?" When the voice rattled off the address of Tony's apartment, Tony's blood suddenly ran cold. "By the time you figure it out, Tony, it'll be too late." The voice said, disconnecting the line.

"Stay!" Gibbs said, marching past Tony's desk as the agent stared at the receiver that was now emitting a dial tone. "McGee with me, Bishop stay here with him. If he moves, shoot him."

"Boss, I have to go!" Tony said, moving around his desk, he grabbed his bag as Gibbs marched ahead of him, slamming his hand into the button on the elevator.

"I said stay! You are a target, you're not going out there."

"But Ziva, Boss. She was meeting me at my apartment." Tony's voice was desperate but strong. "She could be there, she could have..." he lost his voice in the air for a moment and tried to keep calm, tried to be logical. There was no proof that there was a body yet, and there was no proof that this just wasn't a trap. All they had was a voice on the other end of a line, and a trace that led them exactly where it was rumored there was a body.

"Ziva can take care of herself, DiNozzo. Call her cell, see if she answers. But under absolutely no circumstances are you to leave this building until we come back from your place, understood?"

Tony looked desperately toward McGee, but only saw the top of his partner's head as he focused his attention on his shoes. His eyes snapped back to Gibbs, and he reluctantly nodded. "Understood."

"Good, now go sit at your damned desk and try to figure out who the hell is trying to kill you this time." Gibbs snapped. And with a sharp turn, he entered the elevator with McGee. "I mean it, Bishop… he so much as steps into this elevator before we get back, it'll be your head."

"Yes, sir." Ellie nodded, nearly saluting their boss, she thought better of it. The elevator doors closed behind McGee and Gibbs, leaving Tony and Ellie standing in front of the metal doors, staring at their own distorted reflections as they stared back at them.

* * *

**A/N- I'd like to apologize for the slight delay in posting, and the delay that may come for a bit. I was offered a job in another state and will be moving in the next couple of weeks. I promise that I will try to update as often as possible. Comments and reviews will keep me motivated!**


	25. Death Is The Final Limit

**Death Is The Final Limit**

Tony glared angrily at the elevator, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He could see Ellie out of the corner of his eye, and could see that she was trying very hard not to make him snap at her. She was quiet and unassuming, but at the ready in the instance that he decided to bolt.

"Tony," she said softly. "Hey, Tony. Why don't you give Ziva a call. I'm sure she's fine." Ellie shrugged.

Tony's head turned slowly, his eyes widened with an intense gaze of near panic. Ellie took a step back, and swallowed hard. He said nothing, only turning on his heel as he marched back to his desk. He lifted his phone into his hand and looked through his list of contacts. Ziva had laughed when she entered her new cell number into his phone that afternoon, jokingly putting her name under 'Ninja' just to make him laugh. His response of course, was that if he needed to call a ninja, then they probably weren't very good at their job. He felt the corner of his mouth turn up as he pressed the button for her number, glaring at Ellie as it rang.

Ellie stood beside his desk, wringing her hand slightly in an anxious flutter, jumping slightly when Tony smacked his phone down. "Voicemail," Tony snapped, looking toward Bishop to note that she looked like a frightened deer. "Chill out, Bishop. I'm not going anywhere."

"Gibbs seemed pretty certain that you were going to take off," Ellie countered.

"Well if I was going to take off, do you think I'd be more afraid of you, or Gibbs?" Tony asked, lifting his eyebrows at her. When she continued looking at him, his eyes narrowed, and she moved quickly toward her desk.

"I'm going to sit over here, but Gibbs did give me permission to shoot you if you try to leave," she reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah." Tony rolled his eyes. He tried valiantly to hide his fear and anxiety, knowing that the person on the other end of the line was at his apartment made his skin crawl. Questions began to pop up in his mind, of whether or not he had been there earlier. Had he seen Tony leave? Did he see Ziva with him? Would he go after her to get to him? And there was the nagging question that he couldn't get out of his mind. "Who the hell wants me dead?" he muttered out loud.

"I can think of a few in this building alone," Ellie snapped back, looking up at Tony's glare. "Kidding." She could see the despair on Tony's face as he tried calling Ziva again with no answer.

* * *

McGee and Gibbs arrived at Tony's apartment inconspicuously, glancing around for any sign of a suspect. Gibbs nodded toward the door and glanced to Tim, who was reaching for the door handle. "I'm going to go up, act like I belong here. You just hang back and wait. This could just be a guy messing with Tony."

"Could be a real threat, Boss."

"Yeah. Could be a real threat. Chances are though, they're waiting for Tony, not me. I'll call your phone if I need you to come up." Gibbs climbed out of the car. "Keep sharp, Tim."

"On your six, Boss." McGee replied, watching Gibbs walk toward the door of the apartment building, jogging to catch up to a woman who was entering the front door. He said something to her, and she smiled, letting him hold the door open to allow her to go in first. He glanced back to McGee and entered the building behind the woman. McGee exited the car and stood against it, holding his phone in his hand as if he was trying to get a good look at the screen. Feigning frustration at his 'new phone', he took some photos of various cars and people that were in the area as he waited patiently for Gibbs' signal.

Gibbs took the stairs to Tony's floor, walking out of the stairwell, he approached the door cautiously. He noted that nobody else was in the hallway, and the door appeared to be closed. However, as he approached, he noted that on the doorknob hung none other than a pair of glasses. Pulling a glove from his pocket, he used it on his hand as he lifted the glasses from the doorknob. Noting that the glasses were caked in blood, he pulled his cell from his pocket and flipped it open. After a quick dial, he waited one ring before McGee answered. "Yeah, McGee. Call in a team."

"Boss, is it…"

"No body, at least not that I can see, but our killer was here. I need a sweep of the building, check surveillance cameras. Do you have a key to Tony's place?"

"Yeah, Boss."

"Then get your ass up here, McGee. What are you waiting for?" Gibbs hung up on his agent and shook his head, staring ominously at the blood caked eyewear in his hand.

* * *

By now, Tony was starting to pace. He had dialed Ziva's number nearly fifteen times without an answer. "Always be reachable!" he shouted suddenly, noting Bishop's snap to attention.

"Tony, maybe you should sit down and focus on the list," Ellie said, her voice soft and small. She watched his head slowly turn, and his glare focus on her. "Just sit down. Gibbs and McGee have been gone a while now, if there was anything you needed to know, they would have called."

Suddenly, Bishop's phone rang and Tony nearly sprinted to her side, reaching for the receiver. "Bishop," she said into the line. "Hey, McGee… woah, woah… slow down… Okay. Okay, I will get down there. I'll let him know. Yes. Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes." She hung up the phone and looked up at Tony, who was hanging over her desk watching her with wide eyes.

"Well?"

"They found a body," she said, giving him a pained expression. She reached across and touched his shoulder. His face was visibly pale, and she swore that he was about to be sick. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but one of your fish has died. McGee put it in a plastic body baggie for you, just in case you wanted to say goodbye before a burial at sea." She lifted her hand off his shoulder and grabbed her bag.

"I'm going to kill you," Tony said with venom in his voice. "Where are you going?"

"Nothing in your apartment, but the killer left some evidence. They wanted me to go over the surveillance tapes with the security guards. I have to bring you to Abby."

"Abby?" Tony asked, still smarting from her earlier joke. "I don't need a babysitter."

"That's a shame, I was looking forward to tucking you in tonight," a familiar voice chimed in. They both looked toward the elevators to see Ziva coming toward them, a bright smile on her face that quickly faded when she noted the look of relief wash over Tony's face. "What's going on?" she whispered.


End file.
